In  some  hour  of  solemn  jubilee 
The  massy  gates  of  Paradise  are  thrown 
Wide  open,  and  forth  come  in  fragments  wild, 
Sweet  echoes  of  unearthly  melodies, 
And  odors  snatched  from  beds  of  amaranth, 
And  they  that  from  the  crystal  river  of  life 
Sprung  up  on  freshened  wing,  ambrosial  gales! 
The  favored  good  man  in  his  lonely  walk 
Perceives  them,  and  his  silent  spirit  drinks 
Strange  bliss,  which  he  shall  recognize  in  heaven. 

COLERIDGE. 


HYMNS    ON    HEAVEN 


SELECTED    BY 


A.  C.  THOMPSON,  D.  D., 

AUTHOR  Off  "THE  BETTER  LAND,"  "MORNING  HOURS  AT  PATMO8,' 
"GATHERED  LILIES,"   ETC. 


BOSTON: 


OOULD      AND      LINCOLN, 

69     WASHINGTON     STREET. 

NEW  YORK:  SHELDON  AND  COMPANY. 

CINCINNATI:    GEORGE  S.  BLANCHAKD. 
1863. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  18G2,  by 

GOULD    AND    LINCOLN, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


OKO.  C.  KA1TD  *  ATKKT, 

ZLECTBOTTPEBS    AICD    PRINTERS. 


ANY  of  the  pieces  in  this  volume  are  not 
easily  accessible  to  the  majority  of  readers. 
No  intentional  alterations  have  been  made, 
except  omissions  and  change  of  titles.  Be- 
sides the  hymns  originally  English,  there 
will  be  found  translations  from  the  Syriac,  Latin,  Rus- 
sian, German,  French,  Italian,  Spanish,  and  Portuguese. 
The  volume,  however,  does  not  profess  to  be  a  complete 
anthology  in  this"  department  of  religious  literature.  Suf- 
ficient materials  for  a  second  series  remain  even  now 

in  the  hands  of  the  compiler. 

A.  c.  T. 


COFTEFTS, 


in  s 


BEYOND  THE  RUER, 23 

UP  ABOVE, 25 

ABOVE  THE  SKIES, 28 

HEAVEN  OF  HEAVENS, ,  .  .  29 

SOMETIMES  SEEN, 31 

NOT  VERY  FAR, 32 

EVERYWHERE   NEAR, 34 


is  Ibafaen? 


/.     THE   BETTER    COUNTRY. 

THE  GOODLY  LAND, 39 

THE  LAND  OF  PROMISE, * 41 

NO  NIGHT  SHALL  BE  IN  HEAVEN, 45 

NO  GRAVES  ARE  THERE, 47 

WHERE  IS  NO  MORE  SEA, 48 

WHERE  THE  BLIND  SEE, 50 

WHERE  THE  DEAF  HEAR, 51 

OH,  PARADISE    MUST  FAIRER  BE, 54 

2  vii 


CONTENTS. 

MORE  BLEST  THAN  EDEN, 54 

MY  NATIVE  LAND, 56 

MY  AIN  COUNTIIEE, = 5G 


II.     THE   HOLY    CITY. 

THE    CITY  OF  PEACE, 59 

THE  HOLY  JERUSALEM, 63 

CELESTIAL  JERUSALEM, 64 

THE  NEW  JERUSALEM, 6G 

THE  JERUSALEM  OF  PROPHECY, 76 

THE  CITY  OF  BLESSEDNESS, 77 

GLORIOUS  ZION, 81 

BEAUTIFUL  ZION, , 84 

///.     THE  PLACE    OF  REUNION. 

MEET  AGAIN, 86 

SHALL  WE    MEET? 87 

PLACE  OF  MEETING, 88 

NOT  LOST,  BUT  GONE  BEFORE, 90 

SOON  WITH  THEE, 91 

UNITY  OF  SAINTS, 93 

HALLELUJAH, 94 

AT  HOME  AGAIN, 96 

RECOGNITION, 98 

MY  DEAR  COMPANION, 98 

BROTHER,  WE  SHALL  MEET  AND  REST, 100 

SISTER,  WHY  STARTS  THE  TEAR? 102 

VIU 


CONTENTS. 

IV.     OUR   REST. 

THERE  REMAINETH  A  REST, 104 

IN  HEAVEN  ALONE  IS  REST, 106 

PERFECT  REST, 108 

I  AM  WEARY, 109 

I   WOULD  FLY  AWAY, 110 

WHEN  SHALL  I  BE  AT  REST? Ill 

REST,   SWEETLY  REST, 113 

THE  WEARY  ARE  AT  REST, .114 


m  Ifoatew? 


/.    OUR    GOD. 

WHOM  HAVE  I  IN  HEAVEN  BUT  THEE? 119 

DWELLING  IN  LIGHT, 121 

IN  THY  LIGHT  SHALL  WE  SEE  LIGHT, 122 

GOD  IN  HIS  TEMPLE, 123 

HIS   THRONE, 125 

HIS  THRONE  AND  TEMPLE, 126 

OPEN  IS  THE  STARRY  HALL 127 

II.     OUR    SAVIOUR. 

THE  GOOD   SHEPHERD, 129 

OUR  SHEPHERD, .131 

CHRIST  ARISEN, 132 

CHRIST  ASCENDED, 133 

CHRIST  MINDFUL, 131 


CONTENTS. 

CHRIST  THE    KING  OF  GLORY, 135 

CHRIST   THE  STAR, 136 

CHRIST  THE  LIGHT, 138 

CHRIST   ENTHRONED, HI 

CHRIST  THE    KING 142 

JESUS  ADORED, 143 

JESUS   EXTOLLED, H5 

THE   PRINCE  OF  PEACE, 147 

KING,   HIGH  PRIEST,  IMMANUEL, 148 

THE  REDEEMER  AND  REDEEMED, 150 

THE   SYMPATHIZING  BROTHER, 152 

OUR  FELLOW-SUFFERER, 154 

YES,  FOR  ME,  FOR  ME 155 

///.    HOLY  ANGELS. 

CHERUBIM, 156 

SONG  OF  THE   CHERUBIM, 157 

ANGELS   AND  THE   GLORIFIED, .  158 

SINGING   HALLELUJAH, 1C1 

WAITING  UPON  GOD, 1(W 

ADORING  THE  LAMB, 163 

WITNESSES  FOR  JESUS, 164 

SERVING  THE  REDEEMER, 167 

GUARDIAN  ANGELS,    .  .  .  .' 168 

IV.    SAINTS    GLORIFIED. 

THE   RANSOMED   OF   THE   LORD 170 

THE  CLOUD  OF  WITNESSES, 173 

x 


CONTENTS. 

THE  EMANCIPATED, 174 

THE  CELESTIAL  ARMY, 175 

PALM-BEARERS, 177 

WHAT  ARE   THOSE? 178 

THE  FIRST  MARTYR, 181 

CHAMPIONS  OF  GOD, 182 

V.  OUR   SAINTED    FRIENDS. 

OUR  EARLY  FRIENDS, 185 

OUR  CHRISTIAN  BROTHER, 186 

OUR  KINDRED, 187 

OUR  FRIEND, 188 

YOUR  FRIEND   REJOICING, 189 

THE  MATRON, 191 

WHERE  IS  MY  FRIEND? 192 

WHO  BELIEVED  AND  LOVED, 194 

SHE  IS  IN  HEAVEN, 195 

MY  HUSBAND, 197 

NOT  LOST, 198 

VI.  REDEEMED    CHILDREN. 

THE  ONE  WANTED, -. 201 

THE  LAMBS  OF  CHRIST, 202 

WHERE  ARE   THEY  NOW? 204 

SWEET  BABES, 205 

MY  CHILD  SAFE, 207 

MY  CHILD  PROMOTED, ,208 

XI 


CONTENTS. 

MY  SOX  IN  GLORY, 210 

MY  OWN  DEAR  SON, 211 

ANGEL  CHARLIE, 215 

OUR   INFANT  DAUGHTER, 218 

A  LAMB  FOLDED,  .  220 


ADORING  THE  SAVIOUR, 223 

HARPING  WITH  THEIR  HARPS, 224 

SERAPHS  WITH  ELEVATED  STRAINS, 225 

EXTOLLING  JESUS  THE  KING, 229 

SINGING  "WORTHY  THE   LAMB," 230 

SINGING  "ALLELUIA," 231 

SINGING  "HOLY,  HOLY,  HOLY," 232 

ADORING  THE  TRINITY, 233 


KNOW  YE  THE  LAND  AND  THE  WAY? 237 

HOW  CAN  WE  KNOW  THE  WAY? 238 

CHRIST  THE   WAY, 239 

CHRIST  THE  WAY  AND  THE  LIFE, 241 

FOLLOWING  CHRIST, 242 

JESUS,  STILL  LEAD  ON, 243 


CONTENTS. 

THROUGH  TRIALS, 244 

THROUGH  PERILS, 246 

A  JOYOUS  WAY, 247 

DROPPING  DOWN  THE  RIVER, 248 

THROUGH  THE  BORDER  LANDS, 250 

THE  PILGRIM'S  PRAYER,  .  ...  252 


it  to  30  t0 


IT  IS  NOT  DYING, 255 

LETTING  GO  EARTH, 256 

RETURNING,  NOT  DEPARTING, 258 

RELEASE  FROM  PRISON, 259 

TAKING  WING, 260 

ONWARD  INTO  LIGHT, 261 

CLIMBING  THE  STAIR, 262 

PASSING  THE  GATE, 263 

BIDDING  GOOD-NIGHT, 265 

BIDDING  FAREWELL, 266 

FLOATING  TO  GLORY, 208 

SOARING  TO  GOD, 268 

THE  MARTYR'S  TRIUMPH, 270 

SING  WITH  ME, 271 

SINGING  HALLELUJAH, 272 

A  SMILING  INFANT, 273 

FROM  HOVEL  TO  HEAVEN, 275 

GOING  INTO  LIGHT, 277 


CONTENTS. 


noi   0  ia 


I.     ASPIRATIONS   AFTER    HEAVEN. 

LONGING  FOR  IMMORTALITY,  .....................  281 

ARDENT  ASPIRATIONS,    .........................  282 

WHY  TARRY  HERE.'    ...........................  283 

COME,  SACRED  SONG,  ...........................  286 

ENRAPTURED  CONTEMPLATION,    ....................  288 

SALEM  ESPIED,     ..............................  290 

JERUSALEM,  THOU  CITY  FAIR  AND  HIGH,  .............  292 

I  AM  WEARY,    ....................  ...........  294 

I  WOULD   NOT  LIVE  ALWAY,  ......................  295 

IN  HASTE  TO  BE  GONE,    .........................  *9S 

MY  SOUL,  GO  BOLDLY  FORTH,  .....................  299 

DEATH  WELCOMED,  ............................  300 

WORLD,  FAREWELL,    ...........................  302 

LET  ME  DEPART,    .............................  305 

II.    LONGING   TO  BE   WITH  JE8U8. 

OR  TAKE  ME  UP  TO  THEE,  .......................  307 

MY  REDEEMER  LIVES,  ..........................  309 

CHRIST  MY  ALL,  ..............................  312 

LONGING  FOR  HIS  VOICE,  ........................  314 

OH  THAT  I  HAD  WINGS  LIKE  A  DOVE!  .  .  ...........   •  .  315 

I  WANT  TO  BE  THERE,  ..........................  317 

TO  BE  WITH   CHRIST  FAR  BETTER,  ..................  318 

WHILE  ON  THE  VERGE  OF  LIFE  I  STAND,   .............  319 

XIV 


CONTENTS. 

I  LONG  TO  BEHOLD  HIM  AERATED, 321 

CHRIST  THE  GLORY  OF  HEAVEN, 322 

CHRIST  ALTOGETHER  LOVELY, 323 

TO  JESUS  THE  CROWN  OF  MY  HOPE, 324 

WHEN  WILL  HE  COME? 326 

WHEN,  LORD,  OH  WHEN  SHALL  WE? 328 

WHEN  SHALL  THY  LOVELY  FACE  BE  SEEN? 329 

THE  DAY  DAWNING, 331 

THE  BRIDEGROOM  COMETH,     . 333 

NOW  THE  PEARLY  GATES  UNFOLD, 335 


i0to  noon  in  lleatatx? 


HOW  LONG?     ................................  339 

WHEN  COMES  HIS  HOUR?  ........................  340 

A  LITTLE  WHILE,  ................  .............  342 

A  LITTLE  LONGER,    ............................  343 

WHEN  THOU  WILT,  ............................  344 

DAILY  NEARER,    ..............................  340 

NEARER  THAN  WHEN  WE  BELIEVED,  ................  347 

A  FEW  MORE  DAYS,    ...........................  348 

SOON  HOME,    ........................  .  .......  351 


n 

I.     TILL    THE  RESURRECTION. 

BURIAL  AND  RESURRECTION,     .....................  355 

SLEEPING  AND  AWAKING,    .......................  357 

XV 


CONTENTS. 

RAISED  IN  GLORY, 359 

RESURRECTION  HAILED, 360 

THE  GLORIOUS  COMING, 3C2 

THE  EVENING   WATCH, 363 

RENAISSANCE, 304 

REAPPEARING, 3G5 

THE  DAY  BREAKETH, 367 

AWAKE,  AWAKE, 369 

ASCEND,  BELOVED, 370 


//.    FOR   EVER   AND   EVER. 

LIFE  ETERNAL, 373 

FOR  EVERMORE 374 

SOON  AND  FOREVER, 377 

EVER  WITH  THE  LORD, 379 

xvi 


Into*  of  Jfirst  Iks. 


A  cloud  lay  cradled  near  the  setting  sun, 268 

A  few  more  years  shall  roll,    348 

Ah,  hush  now  your  mournful  complainings, 359 

Ah,  what  time  wilt  thou  come? 32G 

A  hymn  of  glory  let  us  sing, 133 

Alight  there  is  above  which  plainly  shows, 122 

A  little  longer  still,  — patience,  beloved,  343 

A  little  while,  and  every  fear, 342 

Alleluia,  sweetest  music,  voice  of  everlasting  joy,  231 

All  must  die  ,  there's  no  redemption, 300 

A  long  farewell  to  sin  and  sorrow,   270 

And  dost  thou,  holy  Shepherd,  leave, 131 

Angels  bright, 102 

Arrayed  in  semblance  of  a  snow-white  rose, 156 

Ascend,  beloved,  to  the  joy, 370 

A  sound  in  yonder  glade, 152 

Awake,  awake,  for  night  is  flying, 369 

Away  with  our  sorrow  and  fear, 318 

A  weary,  wandering  soul  am  I, 239 

Beautiful  Zion,  city  renowned,   84 

Beyond  the  glittering  starry  skies, 167 

Beyond  the  hills  where  suns  go  down, 298 

Beyond  these  chilling  winds  and  gloomy  skies, 31 

Beyond  the  smiling  and  the  weeping, 351 

Brief  life  is  here  our  portion, 373 

Bright  cherubim  and  seraphim, 1G3 

Brother,  thou  art  gone  before  us,  .  114 

XVII 


IXDEX  OF  FIRST   LINES. 

Child,  by  God's  sweet  mercy  given, 210 

Clear  fount  of  light,  my  native  land  on  high, 56 

Come,  let  us  join  our  friends  above, 93 

Come,  Lord,  my  head  doth  burn,  my  heart  is  rick, 307 

Come,  sacred  song,  thy  heaven  of  joy  spread  o'er  me, 286 

Deathless  principle,  arise, 208 

Death's  but  a  path  that  must  be  trod, 259 

Descend  from  heaven,  immortal  Dove, 223 

Dim  shadows  gather  thickly  round, 202 

Down  below  the  wild  November  whistling, 25 

Dropping  down  the  troubled  river, 248 

Earth  is  the  spirit's  rayless  cell, 200 

Earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust, 355 

Farewell,  I  goe  to  sleep,  but  when, 363 

Far  from  these  narrow  scenes  of  night, 39 

Father,  into  thy  loving  hands, 250 

Forever  with  the  Lord, 379 

From  out  this  dim  and  gloomy  hollow, 238 

Gentle  Shepherd,  thou  hast  stilled, 220 

God  looked  among  his  cherub  band, 201 

God  took  thee  in  his  mercy, 207 

Grieve  not  that  I  die  young ;  is  it  not  well, 305 

Hail  the  day  that  sees  him  rise, 135 

Hail,  thou  once  despised  Jesus, 143 

Hallelujah,  Lord  our  God, 272 

Hark,  hark,  the  voice  of  ceaseless  praise, 224 

Hark,  how  the  angels,  as  they  fly,    1GS 

Hark,  ten  thousand  harps  and  voices, 229 

Hark,  the  trump  of  God  is  sounding, 367 

Head  of  the  hosts  in  glory, 145 

Hear  what  God  the  Lord  hath  spoken, 76 

He  came  a  beauteous  vision, 215 

He  has  gone  to  his  God,  he  has  gone  to  his  home, 188 

Here  may  the  band  that  now  in  triumph  shines, 170 

High  the  angel  choirs  are  raising, 233 

XVIII 


INDEX   OF   FIRST  LINES. 

His  sceptre  is  the  rod  of  righteousness, 121 

How  long1  shall  death  the  tyrant  reign, 331 

How  shall  I  know  thee  in  the  sphere  which  keeps, 98 

I  am  far  frae  my  hame,  an'  I'm  weary  often  whiles, 56 

I  am  weary  of  straying ;  oh,  fain  would  1  rest, 294 

I  hail  the  day  in  prospect  bright, 300 

I  journey  forth  rejoicing, 265 

I  long  to  behold  him  arrayed, 321 

I'm  returning,  not  departing, 258 

In  the  Fount  of  life  perennial, 77 

I  saw  a  gate ;  a  harsh  voice  spake  and  said, 241 

Is  this  her  home  ? 191 

Is  this  the  way,  my  Father  ?    'Tis,  my  child, 240 

I  stood  by  the  open  casement, 175 

I  would  not  live  alway,  live  alway  below, 295 

Jerusalem,  thou  city  fair  and  high, 292 

Jesus'  hour  is  not  yet  come, 340 

Jesus,  still  lead  on, 246 

Jesus,  who  is  all  my  trust, 309 

Joyful  words,  we  meet  again, 86 

• 

Knell  of  departed  years, 347 

Know  ye  the  land  ?    Oh,  not  on  earth  it  lies, 237 

Let  me  go,  the  day  is  breaking, 266 

Look  thou  no  further,  but  affixe  thine  eye, 29 

Lord  of  earth,  thy  bounteous  hand, 119 

Lord  of  the  worlds  above, 123 

Lord,  thy  glory  fills  the  heaven, 232 

Lord,  thy  word  is  light, 252 

Meet  again  '  yes,  we  shall  meet  again, 94 

My  feet  are  worn  and  weary  with  the  march, 109 

My  God,  it  is  not  fretfulness, 339 

My  soul,  amid  this  stormy  world, 315 

My  soul,  go  boldly  forth,  299 

My  soul,  there  is  a  countrie, 147 

XIX 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 

Nearer  home,  nearer  home, 34f» 

No  graves  are  there, 47 

No  night  shall  be  in  heaven,  no  gathering  gloom, 45 

No,  no,  it  is  not  dying,  255 

No  sun  shall  gild  the  blest  abode, 150 

Not  from  Jerusalem  alone,  TH 

Not  in  this  weary  world  of  ours,  IOC 

Now  it  belongs  not  to  my  care, 344 

Now  let  our  voices  join, 247 

Now  the  pearly  gates  unfold, 335 

Now  the  pilgrim,  sad  and  weary, »  59 

O  beauteous  God  !  uncircumscribed  treasure, 125 

O  Christ,  how  good  and  fair,  312 

Oft  weeping  memory  sits  alone, 87 

Oh  cling  not,  trembler,  to  life's  fragile  bark, 250 

Oh  could  I  pierce  that  deep  abyss! 205 

Oh  for  the  wings  of  faith  and  love ! 322 

Oh  had  I  wings  like  yonder  bird  I 110 

Oh  how  blest  are  ye  whose  toils  are  ended ! 174 

Oh,  I  hear  them  tell  of  a  canopy  fair, 50 

Oh,  Paradise  must  fairer  be, 53 

Oh  the  delights,  the  heavenly  joys, 141 

Oh  think  that  while  you're  weeping  here, 189 

O  mother  dear,  Jerusalem,   OG 

One  and  another  pass  they  and  are  gone, 185 

Open  is  the  starry  hall, 127 

Our  beloved  have  departed, 91 

Our  course  is  onward,  onward  into  light, 261 

Our  Jesus  now  at  God's  right  hand, 148 

Our  Saviour  shall  descend  again, 302 

O  ye  immortal  throng,    1C4 

Palms  of  glory,  raiment  bright, 177 

Pure  spirit,  oh  where  art  thou  now  ? 192 

Region  of  life  and  light, 129 

Rejoice,  all  ye  be1  ievers, 333 

Rest,  weary  soul,  113 

Sad  prisoners  in  a  house  of  clay,   281 

Say,  how  can  I  with  lightsome  feet, 197 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

Say,  why  should  friendship  grieve  for  those, 90 

See  the  glorious  cherubim, 157 

Seraphs  with  elevated  strains, 225 

Shall  I  e'er  again  thy  features  trace, 98 

She  is  in  heaven  ;  that  thought  alone, 195 

Should  nature's  charms  to  please  the  eye, 323 

Since  o'er  thy  footstool  here  below, 126 

Sing  to  the  Lord ;  let  harp  and  lute  and  voice, 182 

Sing  we  the  song  of  those  who  stand, .230 

Sing  with  me,  sing  with  me,  271 

Sister  and  friend,  why  starts  the  tear, 102 

Soft  as  falls  the  heavenly  dew, 134 

Soon  and  forever, 377 

Surely  yon  heaven,  where  angels  see  God's  face, 32 

Sweet  babe,  she  glanced  into  our  world  to  see, 218 

Sweet  is  the  name  of  rest, 108 


Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  sung, 181 

The  beauty  of  my  native  land, 282 

The  broken  ties  of  happier  days, 187 

The  earth,  all  light  and  loveliness, 96 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise,   41 

The  holy  Jerusalem, 63 

The  last  sand  from  Time's  hour-glass, 136 

The  loved  and  lost,  — why  do  we  call  them  lost? 198 

There  are  refreshments  sweeter  far  than  sleep, 314 

There  is  a  land  like  Eden  fair, 54 

There  is  a  land  immortal, 263 

There  is  aland  where  beauty  cannot  fade, 242 

There  walk  the  saved,  yea,  they  who  bore, 138 

The  Shepherd  by  his  passion, 357 

The  star  is  not  extinguished  when  it  sets, 305 

They  are  all  gone  into  a  world  of  light, 277 

They  see  such  admirable  things,  288 

They  were  gathered  early,  earth's  young  and  fair, 202 

Thou  bright  and  star-like  spirit, 208 

Thou'rt  mine,  yes,  still  thou  art  mine  own, 211 

Through  night  to  light,  and  though  to  mortal  eyes,    244 

Time  is  a  river  deep  and  wide,. 23 

Tis  dying  j  life  is  yielding  place, 273 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES.. 

'Tis  God's  decree  that  all  shall  die, 81 

"Tis  thus  they  press  the  hand  and  part, 88 

To  Jesus  the  crown  of  my  hope, 324 

To  me  though  neither  voice  nor  sound, 51 

To  thee,  O  dear,  dear  country, 04 

Tread  softly,  bow  the  head, 275 

Two  worlds  there  are ;  to  one  our  eyes  we  strain, 374 

Weep  not  for  a  brother  deceased, 186 

What  joy  while  thus  I  view  the  day, 290 

What  means  yon  blaze  on  high  ?....'. 158 

When  faith  and  love,  which  parted  from  thee  never, 194 

When,  Lord,  oh  when  shall  we, 328 

When  shall  I  beat  rest,  my  trembling  heart, Ill 

When  shall  thy  lovely  face  be  seen? 329 

When  tempests  toss  and  billows  roll, 48 

When  yonder  glorious  sky, 283 

Where  are  they  now  who  used  at  morn  to  gambol, 204 

Where  high  the  heavenly  temple  stands, 154 

Where  the  faded  flower  shall  freshen, 100 

While  on  the  verge  of  life  I  stand,  319 

Who  are  those  before  God's  throne, 178 

Why  search  ye  in  the  narrow  tomb, 132 

World,  farewell ;  of  thee  I'm  tired, 302 

Ye  angels,  praise  the  Lord,  Id 

Ye  angels  who  stand  round  the  throne, 317 

Ye  golden  lamps  of  heaven,  farewell, 28 

Ye  happy  souls,  no  longer  tossed, 173 

Ye  whoe'er  for  Christ  are  seeking, 142 

Yes,  for  me,  for  me  he  careth, 155 

Yes,  there  remaineth  yet  a  rest, 104 

Yet  such  the  destiny  of  all  on  earth, 364 

XXII 


%  Hftfar. 


DUBLIN  UNIV.  MAGAZINE. 


is  a  river  deep  and  wide  ; 
And  while  along  its  banks  we  stray, 
We  see  our  loved  ones  o'er  its  tide 
Sail  from  our  sight  away,  away. 
Where  are  they  sped  —  they  who  re- 

turn 

No  more  to  glad  our  longing  eyes  ? 
They've  passed  from  life's  contracted  bourn, 
To  land  unseen,  unknown,  that  lies 
Beyond  the  river. 

'Tis  hid  from  view,  but  we  may  guess 


How  beautiful  that  realm  must  be ; 


2,3 


24  HYMN 8   ON  HEAVEN. 

For  gloamings  of  its  loveliness, 

In  visions  granted,  oft  we  see. 
The  very  clouds  that  o'er  it  throw 

Their  veil,  unraised  for  mortal  sight, 
With  gold  and  purple  tintings  glow, 

Reflected  from  the  glorious  light 
Beyond  the 'river. 

And  gentle  airs,  so  sweet,  so  calm, 

Steal  sometimes  from  that  viewless  sphere ; 
The  mourner  feels  their  breath  of  balm, 

And  soothed  sorrow  dries  the  tear ; 
And  sometimes  listening  ear  may  gain 

Entrancing  sound  that  hither  floats  — 
The  echo  of  the  distant  strain 

Of  harps  and  voices,  blending  notes, 
Beyond  the  river. 

There  are  our  loved  ones  in  their  rest ! 

They've  crossed  Time's  river ;  now  no  more 
They  heed  the  bubbles  on  its  breast, 

Nor  feel  the  storms  that  sweep  its  shore. 
But  there  pure  love  can  live,  can  last ;  — 

They  look  for  us  their  home  to  share  ; 
When  we,  in  turn,  away  have  passed, 

What  joyful  greetings  wait  us  there, 
Beyond  the  river. 


WHERE   IS   HEAVEN?  25 


DUBLIN    UNIVERSITY    MAGAZINE. 

DOWN  below,  the  wild  November  whistling 
Through  the  beech's  dome  of  burning  red, 

And  the  Autumn  sprinkling  penitential 
Dust  and  ashes  on  the  chestnut's  head. 

Down  below,  a  pall  of  airy  purple, 

Darkly  hanging  from  the  mountain-side, 

And  the  sunset  from  his  eyebrow  staring 
O'er  the  long  roll  of  the  leaden  tide. 

Up  above,  the  tree  with  leaf  unfading 

By  the  everlasting  river's  brink, 
And  the  sea  of  glass  beyond  whose  margin 

Never  yet  the  sun  was  known  to  sink. 

Down  below,  the  white  wings  of  the  sea-bird 
Dashed  across  the  furrows,  dark  with  mould, 

Flitting,  like  the  memories  of  our  childhood, 
Through  the  trees,  now  waxen  pale  and  old. 

Down  below,  imaginations  quivering 

Through  our  human  spirits  like  the  wind, 

Thoughts  that  toss,  like  leaves  about  the  woodland, 
Hope,  like  sea-birds,  flashed  across  the  mind. 

3 


26  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

Up  above,  the  host  no  man  can  number, 
In  white  robes,  a  palm  in  every  hand, 

Each  somo  work  sublime  forever  working 
In  the  spacious  tracts  of  that  great  land. 

Up  above,  the  thoughts  that  know  not  anguish, 
Tender  care,  sweet  love  for  us  below, 

Noble  pity,  free  from  anxious  terror, 
Larger  love,  without  a  touch  of  woe. 

Down  below,  a  sad,  mysterious  music, 

Wailing  through  the  woods  and  on  the  shore, 

Burdened  with  a  grand  majestic  secret 
That  keeps  sweeping  from  us  evermore. 

Up  above,  a  music  that  entwineth 
With  eternal  threads  of  golden  sound 

The  great  poem  of  this  strange  existence, 

All  whose  wondrous  meaning  hath  been  found. 

Down  below,  the  church,  to  whose  poor  window 
Glory  by  the  autumnal  trees  is  lent, 

And  a  knot  of  worshippers  in  mourning, 
Missing  some  one  at  the  sacrament. 

Up  above,  the  burst  of  Hallelujah, 
And  (without  the  sacramental  mist 

Wrapped  around  us  like  a  sunlit  halo), 
The  great  vision  of  the  face  of  Christ. 


WHERE   IS   HEAVEN?  27 

Down  below,  cold  sunlight  on  the  tombstones, 
And  the  green  wet  turf  with  faded  flowers, 

Winter-roses,  once  like  young  hopes  burning, 
Now  beneath  the  ivy  dripped  with  showers. 

And  the  new-made  grave  within  the  churchyard, 
And  the  white  cap  on  that  young  face  pale, 

And  the  watcher,  ever  as  it  dusketh, 
Backing  to  and  fro  with  that  long  wail. 

Up  above,  a  crowned  and  happy  spirit 

Like  an  infant  in  the  eternal  years, 
Who  shall  grow  in  love  and  light  forever, 

Ordered  in  his  place  among  his  peers. 

Oh  the  sobbing  of  the  winds  of  autumn ! 

Oh  the  sunset  streak  of  stormy  gold ! 
Oh  the  poor  heart,  thinking  in  the  churchyard 

Night  is  coming,  and  the  grave  is  cold ! 

Oh  the  pale,  and  plashed,  and  sodden  roses ! 

Oh  the  desolate  heart,  that  grave  above ! 
Oh  the  white  cap,  shaking  as  it  darkens 

Bound  that  shrine  of  memory  and  love ! 

Oh  the  rest  forever  and  the  rapture ! 

Oh  the  hand  that  wipes  the  tears  away ! 
Oh  the  golden  homes  beyond  the  sunset, 

And  the  hope  that  watches  o'er  the  clay ! 


28  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


PHILIP    DODDEIDGE. 


YE  golden  lamps  of  heaven,  farewell, 
•  With  all  your  feeble  light  ; 
Farewell,  thou  ever-changing  moon, 
Pale  empress  of  the  night. 

And  thou,  refulgent  orb  of  day, 

In  brighter  flames  arrayed  ! 
My  soul,  that  springs  beyond  thy  sphere, 

No  more  demands  thine  aid. 

Ye  stars  are  but  the  shining  dust 

Of  my  divine  abode, 
The  pavement  of  those  heavenly  courts, 

Where  I  shall  reign  with  God. 

The  Father  of  eternal  light 
Shall  there  his  beams  display  ; 

Nor  shall  one  moment's  darkness  mix 
With  that  unvaried  day. 

No  more  the  drops  of  piercing  grief 

Shall  swell  into  mine  eyes, 
Nor  the  meridian  sun  decline 

Amidst  those  brighter  skies. 


WHERE   IS   HEAVEN?  *   29 


There  all  the  millions  of  his  saints 

Shall  in  one  song  unite, 
And  each  the  bliss  of  all  shall  view 

With  infinite  delight. 


LOOK  thou  no  further,  but  affixe  thine  eye 

On  that  bright  shynie  round  still  moving  masse, 

The  house  of  blessed  God,  which  men  call  Skye, 
All  sowed  with  glistring  stars  more  thicke  than 

grasse, 
Whereof  each  other  doth  in  brightnesse  passe, 

But  those  two  most  which,  ruling  night  and  day, 

As  king  and  queene,  the  heavens'  empire  sway. 

And  tell  me  then,  what  hast  thou  ever  scene 
That  to  their  beautie  may  compared  bee  ? 

Or  can  the  sight  that  is  most  sharpe  and  keene 
Endure  their  captain's  flaming  head  to  see  ? 
How  much  lesse  those  much  higher  in  degree, 

And  so  much  fairer,  and  much  more  than  these, 

As  these  are  fairer  than  the  land  and  seas  ? 

3* 


30  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 


For  farre  above  those  heavens  which  here  we  see 
Be  others  farre  exceeding  these  in  light ; 

Not  bounded,  not  corrupt,  as  these  same  bee, 
But  infinite  in  largenesse  and  in  hight, 
Unmoving,  uncorrupt,  and  spotlesse  bright, 

That  need  no  sunne  t'illuminate  their  spheres, 

But  their  own  native  light  farre  passing  theirs. 

And  as  these  heavens  still  by  degrees  arize, 
Until  they  come  to  their  first  Mover's  bound, 

That  in  his  mightie  compasse  doth  comprize, 
And  carrie  all  the  rest  with  him  around ; 
So  those  likewise  doe  by  degrees  redound, 

And  rise  more  faire,  till  they  at  last  arrive 

To  the  most  fake,  whereto  they  all  do  strive. 

Faire  is  the  heaven  where  happy.soules  have  place 

In  full  enjoyment  of  felicitie, 
Whence  they  doe  still  behold  the  glorious  face 

Of  the  Divine  Eternall  Maiestie ; 

More  faire  is  that  where  those  Idees  on  hie 
Enraunged  be,  which  Plato  so  admyred, 
And  pure  Intelligences  from  God  inspyred. 


WHERE   IS   HEAVEN?  31 


BEYOND  these  chilling  winds  and  gloomy  skies, 

Beyond  death's  gloomy  portal, 
There  is  a  land  where  beauty  never  dies, 

And  love  becomes  immortal  ; 

A  land  whose  light  is  never  dimmed  by  shade, 

Whose  fields  are  ever  vernal, 
Where  nothing  beautiful  can  ever  fade, 

But  blooms  for  aye,  eternal. 

We  may  not  know  how  sweet  the  balmy  air, 

How  bright  and  fair  its  flowers  ; 
We  may  not  hear  the  songs  that  echo  there, 

Through  those  enchanted  bowers. 

The  city's  shining  towers  we  may  not  see 

With  our  dim,  earthly  vision, 
For  death,  the  silent  warder,  keeps  the  key 

That  opes  those  gates  elysian. 

But  sometimes,  when  adown  the  western  sky 

The  fiery  sunset  lingers, 
Its  golden  gates  swing  inward  noiselessly, 

Unlocked  by  unseen  fingers. 


32  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEX. 

And  while  they  stand  a  moment  half  ajar, 

Gleams  from  the  inner  glory 
Stream  brightly  through  the  a«ure  vault  afar, 

And  half  reveal  the  story. 

O  land  unknown !  0  land  of  love  divine ! 

Father  allwise,  eternal, 
Guide,  guide  these  wandering,  way-worn  feet  of  mine 

Into  those  pastures  vernal. 


Jfmr. 


II.    BOXAK. 


SURELY,  yon  heaven,  where  angels  see  God's  face, 

Is  not  so  distant  as  we  deem 
From  this  low  earth.     'Tis  but  a  little  space, 

The  narrow  crossing  of  a  slender  stream ; 
'Tis  but  a  veil  which  winds  might  blow  aside. 
Yes ;  these  are  all  that  us  of  earth  divide 
From  the  bright  dwelling  of  the  glorified, — 

The  Land  of  which  I  dream. 

These  peaks  are  nearer  heaven  than  earth  below, 
These  hills  are  higher  than  they  seem ; 

'Tis  not  the  clouds  they  touch,  nor  the  soft  brow 
Of  the  o'er-bending  azure  as  we  deem. 


WHERE   IS   HEAVEN*  33 

'Tis  the  blue  floor  of  heaven  that  they  up-bear, 
And,  like  some  old  and  wildly  rugged  stair, 
They  lift  us  to  the  land  where  all  is  fair,  — 
The  Land  of  which  I  dream. 


These  ocean  waves,  in  their  unmeasured  sweep, 

Are  brighter,  bluer,  than  they  seem ; 
True  image  here  of  the  celestial  deep, 

Fed  from  the  fulness  of  the  unfailing  stream, 
Heaven's  glassy  sea  of  everlasting  rest, 
With  not  q,  breath  to  stir  its  silent  breast, 
The  sea  that  laves  the  land  where  all  are  blest, 

The  Land  of  which  I  dream. 

And  these  keen  stars,  the  bridal  gems  of  night, 

Are  purer,  lovelier,  than  they  seem ; 
Filled  from  the  inner  fountain  of  deep  light, 

They  pour  down  heaven's  own  beam ; 
Clear  speaking  from  their  throne  of  glorious  blue, 
In  accents  ever  ancient,  ever  new, 
Of  the  glad  home  above,  beyond  our  view, 

The  Land  of  which  I  dream. 

This  life  of  ours,  these  lingering  years  of  earth, 

Are  briefer,  swifter,  than  they  seem ; 
A  little  while,  and  the  great  second  birth 

Of  time  shall  come, — the  prophet's  ancient  theme, 


34  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Then  He,  the  King,  the  Judge,  at  length  shall  come, 
And  for  this  desert,  where  we  sadly  roam, 
Shall  give  the  kingdom  for  our  endless  home, 
The  Land  of  which  I  dream ! 


H.    BOXAR. 


NOT  from  Jerusalem  alone 
To  heaven  the  path  ascends ; 

As  near,  as  sure,  as  straight  the  way 
That  leads  to  the  celestial  day, 
From  farthest  realms  extends,  — 
Frigid  or  torrid  zone. 

What  matters  how  or  whence  we  start  ? 
One  is  the  crown  to  all ; 

One  is  the  hard  but  glorious  race, 
Whatever  be  our  starting-place. 
Rings  round  the  earth  the  call 
That  says,  Arise,  depart ! 


WHERE   IS   HEAVEN?  35 

From  the  balm-breathing,  sun-loved  isles 
Of  the  bright  Southern  Sea, 

From  the  dead  North's  cloud-shadowed  pole, 
We  gather  to  one  gladsome  goal, — 
One  common  home  in  thee, 
City  of  sun  and  smiles ! 

The  cold  rough  billow  hinders  none, 
Nor  helps  the  calm,  fair  main ; 

The  brown  rock  of  Norwegian  gloom, 
The  verdure  of  Tahitian  bloom, 
The  sands  of  Mizraim's  plain 
Or  peaks  of  Lebanon. 

As  from  the  green  lands  of  the  vine, 
So  from  the  snow-wastes  pale, 
We  find  the  ever  open  road 
To  the  dear  city  of  our  God, — 
From  Russian  steppe,  or  Burman  vale, 
Or  terraced  Palestine. 

Not  from  swift  Jordan's  sacred  stream 
Alone  we  mount  above ; 

Indus  or  Danube,  Thames  or  Rhone,  — 
Rivers  unsainted  and  unknown,  — 
From  each  the  home  of  love 
Beckons  with  heavenly  gleam. 


30  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Not  from  gray  Olivet  alone 
We  see  the  gates  of  light ; 

From  Morven's  heath,  or  Jungfrau's  snow, 
We  welcome  the  descending  glow 
Of  pearl  and  chrysolite, 
And  the  unsetting  sun. 

Not  from  Jerusalem  alone 
The  church  ascends  to  God ; 

Strangers  of  every  tongue  and  clime, 
Pilgrims  of  every  land  and  tune, 
Throng  the  well-trodden  road 
That  leads  up  to  the  throne. 


II, 

is 


X.    THE  BETTER  COUNTRY. 


UBS.    ANNE     STEELS. 


AR  from  these  narrow  scenes  of  night 
Unbounded  glories  rise, 

And  realms  of  infinite  delight, 
Unknown  to  mortal  eyes. 

Fair  distant  land !  could  mortal  eyes 

But  half  its  joys  explore, 
How  would  our  spirits  long  to  rise, 
And  dwell  011  earth  no  more. 

There  pain  and  sickness  never  come, 

And  grief  no  more  complains ; 
Health  triumphs  in  immortal  bloom, 

And  endless  pleasure  reigns. 


40  IIYMXS    OX   HEAVEN. 

From  discord  free,  and  war's  alarms, 
And  want,  and  pining  care, 

Plenty  and  peace  unite  their  charms, 
And  smile  unchanging  there. 

There  rich  varieties  of  joy 
Continual  feast  the  mind ; 

Pleasures  which  fill,  but  never  cloy, 
Immortal  and  refined. 

No  factious  strife,  no  envy  there, 
The  sons  of  peace  molest ; 

But  harmony  and  love  sincere 
Fill  every  happy  breast. 

No  clouds  those  blissful  regions  know, 
Forever  bright  and  fair ; 

For  sin,  the  source  of  mortal  woe, 
Can  never  enter  there. 

There  no  alternate  night  is  known, 
Nor  sun's  faint,  sickly  ray ; 

But  glory  from  the  sacred  throne 
Spreads  everlasting  day. 

The  glorious  Monarch  there  displays 
His  beams  of  wondrous  grace  ; 

His  happy  subjects  sing  his  praise, 
And  bow  before  his  face. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN!  41 

Oh  may  the  heavenly  prospect  fire 

Our  hearts  with  ardent  love, 
Till  wings  of  faith  and  strong  desire 

Bear  every  thought  above. 

Prepare  us,  Lord,  by  grace  divine, 

For  thy  bright  courts  on  high ; 
Then  bid  our  spirits  rise  and  join 

The  chorus  of  the  sky. 


THOMAS     OLIVERS. 


THE  God  of  Abraham  praise, 

Who  reigns  enthroned  above, 
Ancient  of  everlasting  days, 

And  God  of  love ; 
Jehovah,  great  I  AM ! 

By  heaven  and  earth  confest, 
I  bow,  and  bless  the  sacred  name, 

Forever  blest. 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise, 
At  whose  supreme  command 

From  earth  I  rise,  and  seek  the  joys 
At  his  right  hand  ; 


42  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

I  all  on  earth  forsake, 

Its  wisdom,  fame,  and  power, 

And  him  my  only  portion  make, 
My  shield  and  tower. 

The  God  of  Abraham  praise, 

Whose  all-sufficient  grace 
Shall  guide  me  through  this  pilgrimage 

In  all  his  ways  ; 
He  calls  a  worm  his  friend, 

He  calls  himself  my  God ; 
And  he  shall  save  me  to  the  end, 

Through  Jesus'  blood. 

He  by  himself  hath  sworn, 

I  on  his  oath  depend ; 
I  shall,  on  eagles'  wings  up-borne, 

To  heaven  ascend ; 
I  shall  behold  his  face, 

I  shall  his  power  adore, 
And  sing  the  wonders  of  his  grace 

For  evermore. 

Though  nature's  strength  decay, 
And  earth  aiffi  hell  withstand, 

To  Canaan's  bound  I  urge  my  way 
At  his  command ; 


WHAT  IS   HEAVEN?  43 

The  watery  deep  I  pass, 

With  Jesus  in  my  view, 
And  through  the  howling  wilderness 

My  way  pursue. 

The  goodly  land  I  see, 

With  peace  and  plenty  blest, 
A  land  of  sacred  liberty 

And  endless  rest. 
There  milk  and  honey  flow, 

And  oil  and  wine  abound, 
And  trees  of  life  forever  grow. 

With  mercy  crowned. 

There  dwells  the  Lord  our  King, 

The  Lord  our  righteousness ; 
Triumphant  o'er  the  world  and  sin, 

The  Prince  of  peace 
On  Zion's  sacred  height 

His  kingdom  still  maintains, 
And  glorious,  with  his  saints  in  light, 

Forever  reigns. 

He  keeps  his  own  secure, 

He  guards  them  by  his  side ; 
Arrays  in  garments  white  and  pure 

His  spotless  bride ; 


44  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN 

With  streams  of  sacred  bliss, 
With  groves  of  living  joys, 

With  all  the  fruits  of  Paradise, 
He  still  supplies. 

Before  the  Three  in  One 

They  all  exulting  stand, 
And  tell  the  wonders  he  hath  done 

Through  all  their  land ; 
The  listening  spheres  attend, 

And  swell  the  growing  fame, 
And  sing,  in  songs  which  never  end, 

The  wondrous  name. 

The  God  who  reigns  on  high 

The  great  archangels  sing, 
And  "  Holy,  holy,  holy,"  cry, 

"  Almighty  King !  " 
Who  was,  and  is  the  same, 

And  evermore  shall  be ; 
Jehovah,  Father,  great  I  AM, 

We  worship  thee. 

* 

Before  the  Saviour's  face 
The  ransomed  nations  bow, 

O'erwhelmed  at  his  almighty  grace, 
Forever  new ; 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  45 

He  shows  his  prints  of  love, 

They  kindle  to  a  flame, 
And  sound,  through  all  the  world  above, 

The  slaughtered  Lamb. 

The  whole  triumphant  host 

Give  thanks  to  God  on  high ; 
Hail,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 

They  ever  cry ; 
Hail,  Abraham's  God  and  mine, 

I  join  the  heavenly  lays ; 
All  might  and  majesty  be  thine, 

And  endless  praise. 


fre  far 


THOMAS     BAFFLES. 


No  night  shall  be  in  heaven,  —  no  gathering  gloom 
Shall  o'er  that  glorious  landscape  ever  come ; 
No  tears  shall  fall  in  sadness  o'er  those  flowers 
That  breathe  their  fragrance  through  celestial  bowers. 

No  night  shall  be  in  heaven,  —  no  dreadful  hour 
Of  mental  darkness  or  the  tempter's  power ; 
Across  those  skies  no  envious  cloud  shall  roll, 
To  dim  the  sunlight  of  the  enraptured  soul. 


46  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

No  night  shall  be  in  heaven.     Forbid  to  sleep, 
These  eyes  no  more  their  mournful  vigils  keep ; 
Their  fountains  dried,  their  tears  all  wiped  away, 
They  gaze  undazzled  on  eternal  day. 

No  night  shall  be  in  heaven,  no  sorrow's  reign, 
No  secret  anguish,  no  corporeal  pain, 
No  shivering  limbs,  no  burning  fever  there, 
No  soul's  eclipse,  no  winter  of  despair. 

No  night  shall  be  hi  heaven,  but  endless  noon ; 
No  fast-declining  sun,  nor  waning  moon ; 
But  there  the  Lamb  shall  yield  perpetual  light, 
'Mid  pastures  green  and  waters  ever  bright. 

No  night  shall  be  in  heaven,  no  darkened  room, 
No  bed  of  death,  nor  silence  of  the  tomb ; 
But  breezes  ever  fresh  with  love  and  truth 
Shall  brace  the  frame  with  an  immortal  youth. 

No  night  shall  be  in  heaven.     But  night  is  here  — 
The  night  of  sorrow  and  the  night  of  fear ; 
I  mourn  the  ills  that  now  my  steps  attend, 
And  shrink  from  others  that  may  yet  impend. 

No  night  shall  be  in  heaven.     Oh  had  I  faith 

To  rest  in  what  the  faithful  Witness  saith, 

That  faith  should  make  these  hideous  phantoms  flee, 

And  leave  no  night  henceforth  on  earth  to  me ! 


WHAT  IS   HEAVEN?  47 


axe 

B.    A.    BIIEKS. 

<c  No  graves  are  there  ; " 
No  willow  weeps  above  the  grassy  bed 
Where  sleeps  the  young,  the  fondly  loved,  the  fair, 

The  early  dead. 

No  funeral  knell 

Blends  with  the  breeze  of  spring  its  mournful  tone, 
Bidding  thenceforth  those  balmy  breezes  tell 

Of  loved  ones  gone. 

O'er  the  cold  brow 
No  bitter  tears  of  agony  are  shed ; 
None  o'er  the  still,  pale  form  in  anguish  bow, 

Whence  life  has  fled. 

"  No  graves  are  there ; " 
Nor  sunny  slope,  green  turf,  or  quiet  grot, 
Those  sad  mementos  of  departure  bear, 

For  death  is  not. 

That  fearful  foe, 

Here  ever  bearing  from  us  those  we  love, 
Kesistless  as  his  power  is  owned  below, 

Has  none  above. 

*  Upon  a  tombstone  in  a  churchyard  at  Bridgeton  is  a  beautiful  device.  Over 
the  memorial  a  hand  is  pointing  to  the  skies ;  and  forming  an  arch  just  above  it 
is  the  triumphant  exclamation— '  There  are  no  graves  there.'—  Chris.  CJiron. 


48  HYlfXS   ON   HEAVEN. 

No !  in  the  tomb 

Ends  his  dominion  ;  there  his  power  is  o'er ; 
And  they  who  safely  tread  its  path  of  gloom 

Shall  die  no  more. 

"  No  graves  are  there ; " 
Father,  we  thank  thee  that  there  is  a  clime 
Guarded  alike  from  death,  and  grief,  and  care, 

Untouched  by  time. 

We  praise  thy  name, 

That  from  the  dust  and  darkness  of  the  tomb 
"We  can  look  up  in  faith,  and  humbly  claim 

Our  future  home. 

Hasten  the  day 

When,  passing  death's  dark  vale  without  a  fear, 
We,  as  we  reach  that  heavenly  home,  may  say, 

No  graves  are  here. 


xg  ncr  mnn 


WHEN  tempests  toss,  and  billows  roll, 
And  lightnings  rend  from  pole  to  pole, 
Sweet  is  the  thought  to  me, 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  49 

That  one  day  it  shall  not  be  so  ; 
In  the  bright  world  to  which  I  go 
The  tempest  shall  forget  to  blow; 
There  shall  be  no  more  sea. 

My  little  bark  has  suffered  much 
From  adverse  storms  ;  nor  is  she  such 

As  once  she  seemed  to  be  ; 
But  I  shall  shortly  be  at  home, 
No  more  a  mariner  to  roam ; 
When  once  I  to  the  port  am  come, 

There  will  be  no  more  sea. 

Then  let  the  waves  run  mountains  high, 
Confound  the  deep,  perplex  the  sky,  — 

This  shall  not  always  be ; 
One  day  the  sun  will  brightly  shine 
With  life,  and  light,  and  heat  divine ; 
And  when  that  glorious  land  is  mine, 

There  will  be  no  more  sea. 

My  Pilot  tells  me  not  to  fear, 
But  trust  entirely  to  his  care, 

And  he  will  guarantee, 
If  only  I  depend  on  him, 
To  land  me  safe,  in  his  good  time, 
In  yonder  purer,  happier  clime, 

Where  shall  be  no  more  sea. 


50  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


tn  ibt  lUmtr 


JESSIE     GLEWS. 


OH,  I  hear  them  tell  of  a  canopy  fair, 
That  stretches  its  blue  wing  far  up  in  the  air ; 
They  say  it  is  gemnied  with  the  stars  of  night, 
That  sparkle  and  gleam  in  the  pale  moonlight ; 
But  when  I  look  up  all  is  darkness  to  me, 
For  I  cannot  see !  I  cannot  see ! 

I  hear  of  the  flowers  that  round  me  bloom, 
And  my  spirit  finds  joy  in  their  sweet  perfume  ; 
The  rose  and  the  clematis  surely  are  fair, 
For  feeling  can  tell  me  that  beauty  is  there  ; 
But  those  lovely  tints  are  not  painted  for  me, 
For  I  cannot  see !  I  cannot  see ! 

The  zephyr's  sweet  wing  rustles  over  me  now, 
For  I  feel  its  soft  breath  fan  the  curls  on  my  brow ; 
Hark !  it  speaks  to  me  too,  in  its  own  sweet  way ; 
Oh,  would  I  might  feel  it,  ere  passing  away ! 
I  will  touch  it  just  once  —  but  where  can  it  be  ? 
Oh,  I  cannot  see  !  I  cannot  see ! 

The  rays  of  the  sun,  which  they  tell  me  are  bright, 
I  feel  on  my  cheek,  though  a  stranger  to  sight ; 
While  music's  low  tones  gently  steal  on  my  ear, 
And  while  pining  to  see  it  I  scarcely  can  hear ; 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  51 

But  music  and  sunbeams  are  nothing  to  me, 
For  I  cannot  see  !  I  cannot  see  ! 

The  look  of  affection,  how  grateful  to  some  ! 

And,  caught  from  its  beams,  what  fond  feelings*  must 

come ! 

Oh,  would  that  its  form  could  but  dawn  on  my  mind ! 
But  a  glance  from  a  loved  one  is  not  for  the  blind ; 
Oh,  why  must  this  world  be  all  darkness  to  me  ? 
Why  may  I  not  see  ?  why  not  see  ? 

Then  is  there  no  joy  for  the  sightless  one  ?  say, 
Must  the  beauties  of  earth  all  unseen  pass  away  ? 
Then  I  will  look  up  to  a  bright  world  above, 
Where  all  shall  be  happy  and  peaceful  in  love, 
And  there  from  this  darkness  my  eyes  shall  be  free, 
For  then  I  shall  see !  I  shall  see ! 


rm  % 


J.  MONTGOMERY. 


To  me,  though  neither  voice  nor  sound 
From  earth  or  air  may  come, 

Deaf  to  the  world  that  brawls  around, 
The  world  to  me  is  dumb. 


52  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Yet  may  the  quick  -and  conscious  eye 

Assist  the  slow,  dull  ear ; 
Light  can  the  signs  of  thought  supply, 

And  with  a  look  I  hear. 

The  song  of  birds,  the  water's  fall, 
Sweet  tones  and  grating  jars, 

Hail,  tempest,  wind,  and  thunder,  all 
Are  silent  as  the  stars  — 

The  stars  that  on  their  tranquil  way, 
In  language  without  speech, 

The  glory  of  the  Lord  display, 
And  to  all  nations  preach. 

Now,  though  one  outward  sense  be  sealed, 

The  kind  remaining  four, 
To  teach  me  needful  knowledge,  yield 

Their  earnest  aid  the  more. 

Yet  hath  my  heart  an  inward  ear, 
Through  which  its  powers  rejoice  ; 

Speak,  Lord,  and  let  me  love  to  hear 
Thy  Spirit's  still,  small  voice. 

So  when  the  Archangel  from  the  ground 
Shall  summon  great  and  small, 

The  ear  now  deaf  shall  hear  that  sound, 
And  answer  to  the  call. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  53 


,  $)arabiae  mmi  Jfaim 


FROM  THH  GERMAN  OF  F.  RUCKBKX. 

OH,  Paradise  must  fairer  be 

Than  any  spot  below ! 
My  spirit  pines  for  liberty ; 

Now  let  me  thither  go. 

In  Paradise,  forever  clear, 

The  stream  of  love  is  flowing ; 

For  every  tear  that  I've  shed  here 
A  pearl  therein  is  glowing. 

In  Paradise  alone  is  rest ; 

Joy-breathing,  woe-dispelling, 
A  heavenly  wind  fans  every  breast 

Within  that  happy  dwelling. 

For  every  wounding  thorn  below 

A  rose  shall  blossom  there, 
And  sweeter  flowers  than  earth  can  show 

Shall  twine  around  my  hair. 

And  every  joy  that,  budding,  died, 

Shall  open  there  in  bloom ; 
And  Spring,  in  all  her  flowery  pride, 

Shall  waken  from  the  tomb. 


54  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

And  all  the  joys  shall  meet  me  there 
For  which  my  heart  is  pining, 

Like  golden  fruit  in  gardens  fair, 
And  flowers  forever  shining. 

My  youth  that  fled  so  soon  away, 
And  left  me  sad,  decaying, 

Shall  there  be  with  me  every  day, 
With  bright  wings  round  me  playing. 

All  hopes,  all  wishes,  all  the  love 
I  longed  for,  tasted  never, 

Shall  bloom  around  me  there  above, 
And  be  with  me  forever. 


ian  Dies!  tljirn 


A.    C.    COXE, 


THERE  is  a  land  like  Eden  fair, 
But  more  than  Eden  blest ; 

The  wicked  cease  from  troubling  there, 
The  weary  are  at  rest. 

There  is  a  land  of  calmest  shore, 
Where  ceaseless  summers  smile, 

And  winds,  like  angel  whispers,  pour 
Across  the  shining  isle. 


WHAT  IS   HEAVE Nf  55 

There  is  a  land  of  purest  mirth, 

Where  healing  waters  glide ; 
And  there  the  wearied  child  of  earth 

Untroubled  may  abide. 

There  is  a  land  where  sorrow's  sons 

Like  ocean's  wrecks  are  tossed ; 
But  there  revive  those  weeping  ones, 

And  life's  dull  sea  is  crossed. 


There  is  a  land  where  small  and  great 

Before  the  Lord  appear ; 
The  spoils  of  fortune  and  of  fate, 

Whom  heaven  alone  can  cheer. 

There  is  a  land  where,  star-like,  shine 
The  pearls  of  Christ's  renown ; 

And  gems,  long  buried  in  the  mine, 
Are  jewels  in  his  crown. 

There  fe  a  land  like  Eden  fair, 
But  more  than  Eden  blest ; 

Oh  for  a  wing  to  waft  me  there, 
To  fly,  and  be  at  rest ! 


56  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


gatftt  f  anlr. 

FROM    THE     SPANISH    OF     A  L  I)  A  X  A  ,    BT    LOKOFELLOW. 

CLEAR  fount  of  light !  my  native  land  on  high, 
Bright  with  a  glory  that  shall  never  fade ! 
Mansion  of  truth !  without  a  veil  or  shade, 
Thy  holy  quiet  meets  the  spirit's  eye. 
There  dwells  the  soul  in  its  ethereal  essence, 
Gasping  no  longer  for  life's  feeble  breath ; 
But  sentinelled  in  heaven,  its  glorious  presence 
With  pitying  eye  beholds,  yet  fears  not  death. 
Beloved  country !  banished  from  thy  shore, 
A  stranger  in  this  prison-house  of  clay, 
The  exiled  spirit  weeps  and  sighs  for  thee  ! 
Heavenward  the  bright  perfections  I  adore 
Direct,  and  the  sure  promise  cheers  the  way, 
That  whither  love  aspires,  there  shall  my  dwelling  be. 


in  Cmmtee/' 


JT.    T.    OBSERVER. 


I  AM  far  frae  my  hame,  an'  I'm  weary  oftenwhiles 

For  the  langed-for  hame-bringing,  an*  my  Father's  wel- 

come smiles  ; 

I'll  ne'er  be  fu'  content  until  my  een  do  see 
The  gowden  gates  o'  Heaven,  an'  my  ain  countree. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  57 

The  earth  is  flecked  wi'  flowers,  mony-tinted,  fresh,  an' 

gay> 

The  birdies  warble  blithely,  for  my  Father  made  them 

sae; 
But  these  sights  an'  these  soun's  will  as  naething  be  to 

me 
When  I  hear  the  angels  singing  in  my  ain  countree. 


I've  His  gnde  word  of  promise,  that  some  gladsome  day 

the  King 

To  His  ain  royal  palace  his  banished  hame  will  bring ; 
Wi'  een  an'  wi'  hearts  running  owre  we  shall  see 
The  King  in  his  beauty  an'  our  ain  countree. 


My  sins  hae  been  mony,  an'  my  sorrows  hae  been  sair, 
But  there  they'll  never  vex  me,  nor  be  remembered  mair ; 
His  bluid  hath  made  me  white,  his  hand  shall  dry 

mine  ee, 
When  he  brings  me  hame  at  last  to  my  ain  countree. 


Like  a  bairn  to  its  mither,  a  wee  birdie  to  its  nest, 
I  wad  fain  be  ganging  noo  unto  my  Saviour's  breast ; 
For  he  gathers  in  his  bosom  witless,  worthless  lambs  like 

me, 
An'  carries  them  himsel'  to  his  ain  countree. 


58  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

He's  faithfu'  that  hath  promised ;  he'll  surely  come  again ; 
He'll  keep  his  tryst  wi'  me,  at  what  hour  I  dinna  ken, 
But  He  bids  me  still  to  watch,  an'  ready  aye  to  be 
To  gang  at  ony  moment  to  my  ain  couiitree. 


So  I'm  watching  aye  an'  singing  o'  my  hame  as  I  wait 
For  the  soun'ing  o'  Ms  footfa'  this  side  the  gowden  gate. 
God  gie  His  grace  to  ilk  ane  wha  listens  noo  to  me, 
That  we  a'  may  gang  in  gladness  to  our  ain  countree. 


II.    THE  HOLY  CITY. 


Citg  of  |p«stt. 

FKOM  THK  GERMAN  OF  A.  KNAPP. 

OW  the  pilgrim,  sad  and  weary, 
Finds  here  a  desert  wild  and  dreary, 
With  shades  of  death  and  darkness 

filled; 

Soon,  with  groves  of  palm  surrounded, 
The  peaceful  city  shall  be  founded, 

Which  for  his  glory  Christ  shall  build. 
In  splendid  colors  dressed, 
On  sapphires  it  shall  rest ; 

Doors  and  windows 
Of  crystal  rare,  and  turrets  fair 
Of  richest  gems,  shall  glitter  there. 

There,  amid  this  palace  royal, 

A  countless  host,  well  tried  and  loyal, 

Shall  see  the  glory  of  their  Lord ; 
All  their  fears  and  sorrows  ended, 
Shall  they,  with  peace  and  joy  attended, 

Receive  from  him  their  rich  reward. 


60  HY.VNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

The  crown  of  righteousness 
Shall  there  his  people  bless ; 

No  destroyer 

Shall  thither  steal  to  work  their  ill, 
But  Christ  will  there  his  grace  fulfil. 

When  'twill  be  —  seek  not  to  know  it ; 
Who  guides  in  Ms  own  time  will  show  it, 

And  his  own  time  is  always  best. 
Heralds  he  abroad  is  sending, 
That  they,  to  all  his  grace  commending, 
May  bring  them  all  to  seek  his  rest. 
Enough  for  us  to  know 
What  he  would  have  us  do 

Till  the  harvest ; 

The  world's  wide  field  its  fruits  must  yield, 
The  ransom  was  for  all  revealed. 

Tell  it  now  with  joyful  praises,  — 
"  The  Prince  of  Life  his  palace  raises !  " 
O'er  land  and  sea  the  tidings  sound ; 
Not  in  vain  his  invitation ; 
The  messengers  of  his  salvation 
Proclaim  it  to  the  poor  around. 
Beneath  the  burning  sky 
They  to  their  work  apply, 
Daily  sowing. 


WHAT   IS    HEAVEN? 


His  word  he'll  keep  ;  though  now  they  weep, 
With  joy  shall  they  the  harvest  reap. 


Seeing  growth  they  are  requited ; 
With  tears  of  joy,  with  souls  delighted, 
First-fruits  they  now  are  bringing  on ; 
Where  the  ground  to  drought  was  given, 
Head,  hands,  and  hearts,  they  lift  to  heaven, 
Admiring  what  the  Lord  has  done. 
'  All  fresh  with  morning  dew, 
Green  fields  spring  up  to  view, 

Breathing  fragrance ; 
For  bitter  sighs  glad  songs  arise, 
While  hope  anticipates  the  prize. 


But  the  Lord,  by  varied  trial, 
Oft  proves  his  heralds'  self-denial, 

And  makes  them  wait,  and  toil,  and  mourn  ; 
Qft  will  let  fierce  storms  o'ertake  them, 
To  hunger,  thirst,  and  want  forsake  them, 
To  gloom  their  fairest  prospects  turn. 
In  his  own  chosen  way 
His  wisdom  he'll  display, 

Clearly  teaching, 

While  deepest  night  brings  on  the  light, 
That  what  he  does  is  always  right. 


(J-2  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Knowing  this,  shall  fears  beguile  us  ? 
Though  traitors,  leagued  with  foes,  revile  us, 

Our  onward  course  let  us  pursue  ; 
They  that,  shame  for  Jesus  bearing, 
Will  persevere,  his  way  preparing, 
Shall  safely  reach  his  glory  too, 
There,  with  the  Son  of  God, 
To  join  in  blest  abode 

All  the  pious, 

And  freely  own,  through  grace  alone, 
Their  works  of  love  and  faith  were  done. 


Ever  shall  thy  praise  be  glorious, 
When,  over  all  their  ills  victorious, 
Thy  saints  unite  in  tuneful  strife. 
They,  from  death  by  thee  delivered, 
Shall  from  thy  love  no  more  be  severed ; 
Such  is  thy  will,  thou  Prince  of  Life ! 
The  world,  Lord,  rests  on  thee,  — 
Thy  world  with  pity  see ! 

Showing  mercy 

To  him  whose  days  are  prayer  and  praise, 
To  him  who  yet  in  error  strays. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  63 


||0fo 

FKOM  THE  LATIN,   BY  WILLIAMS. 

THE  holy  Jerusalem, 

From  highest  heaven  descending, 
And  crowned  with  a  diadem 

Of  angel  bands  attending, 
The  living  city,  built  on  high, 
Bright  with  "  Celestial  Jewelry  !  " 

She  comes,  the  bride,  from  heaven-gate, 

In  nuptial  new  adorning, 
To  meet  the  Immaculate, 

Like  coming  of  the  ^morning  ; 
Her  streets  of  purest  gold  are  made, 
Her  walls  of  diamond  palisade. 

There  with  pearls  the  gates  are  dight, 

Upon  that  holy  mountain  ; 
And  thither  come,  both  day  and  night, 

Who  in  the  Living  Fountain 
Have  washed  their  robes  from  earthly  stain 
And  borne  below  Christ's  lowly  chain. 

By  the  hand  of  the  Unknown 
The  living  stones  are  moulded 

To  a  glorious  shrine,  all  one, 
Full  soon  to  be  unfolded  — 

The  building  wherein  God  doth  dwell, 

The  holy  church  invisible. 


04  BYMXS   ON   HEAVEN. 


FEOM  TOE  LATIN  OF  BERNARD. 

To  thee,  0  dear,  dear  country, 

Mine  eyes  their  vigils  keep ; 
For  very  love,  beholding 

Thy  happy  name,  they  weep. 
The  mention  of  thy  glory 

Is  unction  to  the  breast, 
And  medicine  in  sickness, 

And  love,  and  life,  and  rest. 

Brief  life  is  here  our  portion, 

Brief  sorrow,  short-lived  care  ; 
The  life  that  knows  no  ending, 

The  tearless  life,  is  there. 
O  one  —  0  only  mansion ! 

0  Paradise  of  joy ! 
Where  tears  are  ever  banished, 

And  joys  have  no  alloy. 

Beside  thy  living  waters 

All  plants  are,  great  and  small, 
The  cedar  of  the  forest, 

The  hyssop  on  the  wall. 
Thy  ageless  walls  are  bounded 

With  amethyst  unpriced ; 
The  saints  built  up  its  fabric, 

And  the  corner-stone  is  Christ. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  65 

Thou  hast  no  shore,  fair  ocean, 

Thou  hast  no  time,  bright  day, 
Dear  fountain  of  refreshment 

To  pilgrims  far  away. 
Upon  the  Rock  of  Ages 

They  raise  the  holy  tower  ; 
Thine  is  the  victor's  laurel, 

And  thine  the  golden  dower. 

They  stand,  those  halls  of  Zion, 

Conj  ubilant  with  song, 
And  bright  with  many  an  angel, 

And  many  a  martyr  throng. 
The  Prince  is  ever  in  them, 

The  light  is  aye  serene ; 
The  pastures  of  the  blessed 
Are  decked  in  glorious  sheen. 

There  is  the  throne  of  David, 

And  there,  from  toil  released, 
The  shout  of  them  that  triumph, 

The  song  of  them  that  feast ; 
And  they  beneath  their  Leader, 

Who  conquered  in  the  fight, 
Forever  and  forever 

Are  clad  in  robes  of  white. 

6* 


HTM  ITS   ON   HEAVEN. 


CJje  Ifcfo  Jfraiaalem. 

0  MOTHER  dear,  Jerusalem, 

When  shall  I  come  to  thee  ? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end, 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ? 
0  happy  harbor  of  God's  saints  ! 

0  sweet  and  pleasant  soil  ! 
In  thee  no  sorrow  may  be  found, 

No  grief,  no  care,  no  toil  ! 

In  thee  no  sickness  is  at  all, 

No  hurt,  nor  any  sore  ; 
There  is  no  death,  nor  ugly  sight, 

But  life  for  evermore. 
No  dimmish  clouds  o'ershadow  thee, 

No  dull  nor  darksome  night  ; 
But  every  soul  shines  as  the  sun, 

For  God  himself  gives  light. 

There  lust  nor  lucre  cannot  dwell, 

There  envy  bears  no  sway  ; 
There  is  no  hunger,  thirst,  nor  heat, 

But  pleasure  every  way. 
Jerusalem  !  Jerusalem  ! 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee  ! 
Oh  that  my  sorrows  had  an  end, 

Thy  joys  that  I  might  see  ! 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  67 

No  pains,  no  pangs,  no  grieving  grief, 

No  woful  wight  is  there ; 
No  sigh,  no  sob,  no  cry  is  heard, 

No  well-away,  no  fear. 
Jerusalem  the  city  is 

Of  God  our  King  alone ; 
The  Lamb  of  God,  the  light  thereof, 

Sits  there  upon  his  throne. 


All,  God,  that  I  Jerusalem 

With  speed  may  go  behold ! 
For  why  ?    The  pleasures  there  abound 

With  tongue  cannot  be  told. 
Thy  turrets  and  thy  pinnacles 

With  carbuncles  do  shine  ; 
With  jasper,  pearl,  and  chrysolite, 

Surpassing  pure  and  fine. 

Thy  houses  are  of  ivory, 

Thy  windows  crystal  clear, 
Thy  streets  are  laid  with  beaten  gold, 

Where  angels  do  appear  ; 
Thy  walls  are  made  of  precious  stones, 

Thy  bulwarks  diamonds  square, 
Thy  gates  are  made  of  orient  pearl,  — 

0  God !  if  I  were  there ! 


68  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Within  thy  gates  no  thing  can  come 

That  is  not  passing  clean  ; 
No  spider's  web,  no  dirt,  no  dust, 

No  filth  may  there  be  seen. 
Jehovah,  Lord,  now  come  away, 

And  end  my  grief  and  plaints ; 
Take  me  to  thy  Jerusalem, 

And  place  me  with  thy  saints, 

Who  there  are  crowned  with  glory  great, 

And  see  God  face  to  face  ; 
They  triumph  still,  and  aye  rejoice, — 

Most  happy  is  their  case. 
But  we  that  are  in  banishment 

Continually  do  moan ; 
We  sigh,  we  mourn,  we  sob,  we  weep, 

Perpetually  we  groan. 


Our  sweetness  mixed  is  with  gall, 

Our  pleasure  is  but  pain, 
Our  joys  not  worth  the  looking  on, 

Our  sorrows  aye  remain. 
But  there  they  live  in  such  delight, 

Such  pleasure  and  such  play, 
That  unto  them  a  thousand  years 

Seem  but  as  yesterday. 


WHA  T   IS   HEA  VEN1  69 

O  my  sweet  home,  Jerusalem ! 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ; 
Thy  King  sitting  upon  his  throne, 

And  thy  felicity  ? 
Thy  vineyards  and  thy  orchards, 

So  wonderful  and  fair, 
And  furnished  with  trees  and  fruit 

Most  beautiful  and  rare  ? 


Thy  gardens  and  thy  goodly  walks 

Continually  are  green ; 
There  grow  such  sweet  and  pleasant  flowers 

As  nowhere  else  are  seen ; 
There  cinnamon  and  sugar  grow, 

There  nard  and  balm  abound ; 
No  tongue  can  tell,  no  heart  can  think, 

The  pleasures  there  abound. 

There  nectar  and  ambrosie  spring, 

There  musk  and  civet  sweet ; 
There  many  a  fine  and  dainty  drug 

Are  trod  down  under  feet. 
Quite  through  the  streets  with  pleasant  sound 

The  flood  of  life  doth  flow, 
IJpon  whose  banks  on  every  side 

The  trees  of  life  do  grow. 


70  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

These  trees  each  month  do  yield  their  fruit, 

For  evermore  they  spring ; 
And  all  the  nations  of  the  world 

To  thee  their  honors  bring. 
Jerusalem,  God's  dwelling-place, 

Full  sore  long  I  to  see  ; 
Oh  that  my  sorrows  had  an  end, 

That  I  might  dwell  in  thee ! 


There  David  stands  with  harp  in  hand, 

As  master  of  the  queir ; 
A  thousand  times  that  man  were  blest 

That  might  Ms  music  hear. 
There  Mary  sings  Magnificat, 

With  tunes  surpassing  sweet ; 
And  all  the  virgins  bear  their  part, 

Singing  about  her  feet. 

"  Te  Deum  "  doth  St.  Ambrose  sing, 

St.  Austin  doth  the  like ; 
Old  Simeon  and  Zacharie 

Have  not  their  songs  to  seek. 
There  Magdalene  hath  left  her  moan, 

And  cheerfully  doth  sing 
With  all  blest  saints,  whose  harmony 

Through  every  street  doth  ring. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  71 

Jerusalem!  Jerusalem! 

Thy  joys  fain  would  I  see ; 
Come  quickly,  Lord,  and  end  my  grief, 

And  take  me  home  to  thee. 
Oh  print  thy  name  in  my  forehead, 

And  take  me  hence  away, 
That  I  may  dwell  with  thee  in  bliss 

And  sing  thy  praises  aye. 

Jerusalem,  thrice  happy  seat ! 

Jehovah's  throne  on  high, — 
O  sacred  city,  queen  and  wife 

Of  Christ  eternallie ! 

0  comely  queen !  with  glory  clad, 
"With  honor  and  degree  ; 

All  fair  thou  art,  exceeding  bright, 
No  spot  is  there  in  thee ! 

1  long  to  see  Jerusalem, 

The  comfort  of  us  all ; 
For  thou  art  fair  and  beautiful, 

None  ill  can  thee  befall. 
In  thee,  Jerusalem,  I  say, 

No  darkness  dare  appear ; 
No  night,  no  shade,  no  winter  foul, 

No  time  doth  alter  there. 


72  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

No  candle  needs,  no  moon  to  shine, 

No  glittering  stars  to  light, 
For  Christ,  the  King  of  righteousness, 

There  ever  shineth  bright. 
The  Lamb  unspotted,  white,  and  pure, 

To  thee  doth  stand  in  lieu 
Of  light,  so  great  the  glory  is 

Thine  heavenly  King  to  view. 

He  is  the  King  of  kings  beset 

In  midst  his  servants'  sight ; 
And  they  his  happy  household  all 

Do  serve  him  day  and  night. 
There,  there  the  queir  of  angels  sing, 

There  the  supernal  sort 
Of  citizens  (which  hence  are  rid 

From  dangers  deep)  do  sport. 

There  be  the  prudent  prophets  all, 

The  apostles  six  and  six, 
The  glorious  martyrs  in  a  row, 

And  confessors  betwixt. 
There  doth  the  crew  of  righteous  men 

And  matrons  all  consist, 
Young  men  and  maids  that  here  on  earth 

Their  pleasures  did  resist. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN*  73 

The  sheep  and  lambs,  that  hardly  'scaped 

The  snares  of  death  and  hell, 
Triumph  in  joy  eternally, 

Whereof  no  tongue  can  tell ; 
And  though  the  glory  of  each  one 

Doth  differ  in  degree, 
Yet  is  the  joy  of  all  alike 

And  common,  as  we  see. 


There  love  and  charity  doth  reign, 

And  Christ  is  all  in  all, 
Whom  they  most  perfectly  behold 

In  glory  spiritual. 
They  love,  they  praise,  they  praise,  they  love, 

They  "  Holy,  holy,"  cry ; 
They  neither  toil,  nor  faint,  nor  end, 

But  laud  continually. 

Oh  happy  thousand  times  were  I, 

If,  after  wretched  days, 
I  might,  with  listening  ears,  conceive 

Those  heavenly  songs  of  praise 
Which  to  the  eternal  King  are  sung 

By  happy  wights  above  — 
By  saved  souls,  and  angels  sweet 

Who  love  the  God  of  love ! 


74  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Oh  passing  happy  were  my  state, 

Might  I  be  worthy  found 
To  wait  upon  my  God  and  King, 

His  praises  there  to  sound, 
And  to  enjoy  my  Christ  above, 

His  favor  and  his  grace, 
According  to  his  promise  made, 

Which  here  I  interlace. 


"  0  Father  dear,"  quoth  he,  "  let  them 

Which  thou  hast  put  of  old 
To  me,  be  there,  where,  lo,  I  am, 

My  glory  to  behold, 
Which  I  with  thee,  before  this  world 

Was  laid  in  perfect  wise, 
Have  had,  from  whence  the  fountain  great 

Of  glory  doth  arise." 

Again,  "  If  any  man  will  serve, 

Then  let  him  follow  me ; 
For  where  I  am,  be  thou  right  sure, 

There  shall  my  servant  be." 
And  still,  "  If  any  man  love  me, 

Him  loves  my  Father  dear ; 
Him  I  do  love  ;  to  him  myself 

In  glory  will  appear." 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN*  75 

Lord,  take  away  my  misery, 

That  there  I  may  behold, 
With  thee,  in  thy  Jerusalem, 

What  here  cannot  be  told, 
And  so  in  Zion  see  my  King, 

My  Love,  my  Lord,  my  All ; 
Whom  now  as  in  a  glass  1  see, 

There  face  to  face  I  shall. 


Oh  blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart, 

Their  Sovereign  they  shall  see ! 
And  the  most  holy  heavenly  host, 

Who  of  his  household  be. 
O  Lord,  with  speed  dissolve  my  bands, 

These  gins  and  fetters  strong, 
For  I  have  dwelt  within  the  tents 

Of  Kedar  over-long. 


Yet  search  me,  Lord,  and  find  me  out ; 

Fetch  me  thy  fold  unto, 
That  all  thy  angels  may  rejoice 

While  aU  thy  will  I  do. 
0  mother  dear,  Jerusalem, 

When  shall  I  come  to  thee  ? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end  ? 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ? 


76  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Yet  once  again  I  pray  thee,  Lord, 

To  quit  me  from  all  strife, 
That  to  thine  hill  I  may  attain, 

And  dwell  there  all  my  life ; 
With  cherubims  and  seraphims, 

And  holy  souls  of  men, 
To  sing  thy  praise,  O  God  of  hosts, 

Forever,  and  Amen ! 

NOTE.  —  This  hymn,  the  mother  of  several  more  recent  ones,  was  formerly 
ascribed  to  David  Dickson.  It  was  probably  altered  and  enlarged  by  Mm  from 
one  yet  older,  in  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century. 


of 


WM.    COWPEK. 


HEAR  what  God  the  Lord  hath  spoken: 

"  0  my  people,  faint  and  few, 
Comfortless,  afflicted,  broken, 

Fair  abodes  I  build  for  you ; 
Thorns  of  heartfelt  tribulation 

Shall  no  more  perplex  your  ways ; 
You  shall  name  your  walls  Salvation, 

And  your  gates  shall  all  be  Praise. 

"  There,  like  streams  that  feed  the  garden, 
Pleasures  without  end  shall  flow ; 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  77 

For  the  Lord,  your  faith  rewarding, 

All  his  bounty  shall  bestow ; 
Still  in  undisturbed  possession 

Peace  and  righteousness  shall  reign ; 
Never  shall  you  feel  oppression, 

Hear  the  voice  of  war  again. 

"  Ye  no  more  your  suns  descending, 

Waning  moons  no  more  shall  see, 
But,  your  griefs  forever  ending, 

Find  eternal  noon  in  me  ; 
God  shall  rise,  and,  shining  o'er  you, 

Change  to  day  the  gloom  of  night ; 
He,  the  Lord,  shall  be  your  glory, 

God  your  everlasting  light." 


®fye  Citg  of 


FROM   THE  LATIN  OF  PETEK  DAMIANI. 


IN  the  Fount  of  life  perennial  the  parched  heart  its  thirst 

would  slake, 
And  the  soul,  in  flesh  imprisoned,  longs  her  prison  walls 

to  break,  — 
Exile,  seeking,  sighing,  yearning,  in  her  fatherland  to 

wake. 


78  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

When  with  cares  oppressed  and  sorrows,  only  groans  her 

grief  can  tell ; 
Then  she  contemplates  the  glory  which  she  lost  when  first 

she  fell ; 
Present  evil  but  the  memory  of  the  vanished  good  can 

swell. 

Who  can  utter  what  the  pleasures  and  the  peace  un- 
broken are, 

Where  arise  the  pearly  mansions,  shedding  silvery  light 
afar, 

Festive  seats  and  golden  roofs  which  glitter  like  the  eve- 
ning star ! 

Wholly  of  fair  stones  most  precious  are  those  radiant 

structures  made ; 
With  pure  gold,  like  glass  transparent,  are  those  shining 

streets  inlaid ; 
Nothing  that  denies  can  enter,  nothing  that  can  soil  or 

fade. 

Stormy  winter,  burning  summer,  rage  within  those  re- 
gions never, 

But  perpetual  bloom  of  roses,  and  unfading  spring  for- 
ever; 

Lilies  gleam,  the  crocus  glows,  and  dropping  balms  their 
scents  deliver. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  79 

Honey  pure,  and  greenest  pastures,  —  this  the  land  of 

promise  is, 
Liquid  odors  soft  distilling,  perfumes  breathing  on  the 

breeze ; 
Fruits   immortal   cluster   always   on   the   leafy   fadeless 

trees. 

There  no  moon  shines  chill  and  changing,  there  no  stars 

with  twinkling  ray, 
For  the  Lamb  of  that  blest  city  is  at  once  the  sun  and 

'day; 
Night  and  time  are  known  no  longer,  day  shall  never 

fade  away. 

There  the  saints  like  suns  are  radiant,  like  the  sun  at 

dawn  they  glow ; 
Crowned  victors   after   conflict,  all   their  joys   together 

flow, 
And  secure  they  count  the  battles  where  they  fought  the 

prostrate  foe. 

Putting  off  their  mortal  vesture,  in  their  Source  their 

souls  they  steep ; 
Truth  by  actual  vision  beaming,  on  its  form  their  gaze 

they  keep, 
Drinking  from  the  living  Fountain  draughts  of  living 

waters  deep. 


80  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Time  with   all  its   alternations   enters   not   those   hosts 

among ; 
Glorious,  wakeful,  blest,  no  shade  of  chance  or  change 

o'er  them  is  flung ; 
Sickness  cannot  touch  the  deathless,  nor  old  age  the  ever 

young. 

There  their  being  is  eternal ;  things  that  cease  have  ceased 

to  be ; 
All  corruption  there   has   perished,  there  they  flourish 

strong  and  free ; 
Thus  mortality  is  swallowed  up  of  life  eternally. 


Nought  from  them  is  hidden,  knowing  Him  to  whom  all 

things  are  known, 
All   the    spirit's    deep    recesses,   sinless,   to    each   other 

shown,  — 
Unity  of  will  and  purpose,  heart  and  mind  forever  one. 


Diverse  as  their  varied  labors  the  rewards  to  each  that 

fall, 
But  Love  what  she  loves  in  others  evermore  her  own 

doth  call ; 
Thus  the  several  joy  of  each  becomes  the  common  joy  of 

all. 


WHAT   18   HEAVEN*  gj 

Blessed  who  the  King  of  heaven  in  his  beauty  thus 
behold, 

And.  beneath  his  throne  rejoicing  see  the  universe  un- 
fold,— 

Sun,  and  moon,  and  stars,  and  planets,  radiant  in  his 
light  unrolled ! 

Christ,  the  Palm  of  faithful  victors !  of  that  city  make 

me  free ; 
When  my  warfare  shall  be  ended,  to  its  mansions  lead 

thou  me ; 
Grant  me,  with  its  happy  inmates,  sharer  of  thy  gifts 

to  be! 


FROM  THE  FBESCH  — "HKUBES  CHRETIENNES  DBS  EGLISES  LUTHERIKHNI8. 

'Tis  God's  decree  that  all  shall  die,  — 

This  earth  is  not  my  home ; 
My  native  land  is  far  on  high, 

Beyond  the  starry  dome. 
I  ne'er  can  reach  the  heavenly  sphere, 

To  gain  the  heavenly  crown, 
Until  in  vile  corruption  here 

I've  laid  my  body  down. 


82  HYMNS   ON-   HEAVEN. 

0  Thou  to  whom  all  worlds  pertain, 

From  earth  thou  callest  me  ; 
And  gladly  I,  through  sickness,  pain, 

And  death,  shall  come  to  thee. 
My  trust  and  hope,  0  Heavenly  Sire, 

On  thee  I  still  repose ; 
Do  thou,  through  Christ,  when  I  expire, 

Thy  bliss  to  me  disclose. 

How  vast  the  love  of  Christ,  who  came 

To  die  for  men  below, 
And  underwent  the  cross's  shame, 

That  I  may  'scape  from  woe  ! 
His  death's  to  me  the  source  of  life, 

And  where  he's  now  on  high, 
Afar  from  death,  and  sin,  and  strife, 

A  home  obtain  shall  I. 

• 

My  heart's  already  there  ;  I  long 

To  quit  my  fleshly  load, 
To  leave  these  scenes  of  grief  and  wrong, 

And  reach  the  blessed  abode. 
There  pleasure  reigns,  and  jubilee. 

And  mighty  choirs  proclaim, 
"Jehovah's  holy  —  holy  he, 

And  holy,  too,  his  name." 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  83 

Tis  there  that  all  the  ancient  sires, 

Apostles,  saints,  and  seers, 
Exult  in  songs  which  love  inspires, 

And  God  in  favor  hears. 
There's  naught  but  triumph,  naught  but  song ; 

With  plaudits  ring  the  skies  — 
To  Christ,  they  cry,  our  joys  belong, 

To  Christ  our  anthems  rise. 


0  glorious  Zion  !  thou  who  far 

In  heaven  hast  reared  thy  walls, 
All  bliss  is  thine  ;  nor  want,  nor  war, 

Nor  sickness  thee  befalls  ; 
Thrice  happy  they  who  now  thy  day 

Of  bliss  and  glory  see  ! 
Oil,  when  shall  dawn  the  blissful  ray 

That  lights  my  feet  to  thee  ? 

1  see  it  come,  it  now  is  nigh ; 
The  moment  hastes  apace 

When  Jesus  in  the  lofty  sky 
Shall  give  my  soul  a  place. 

And  now  shall  I  the  crown  obtain 
Which  waits  his  folk  on  high ; 

Receive  me,  Lord ;  now  let  me  reign 
With  thee  in  th'  azure  sky. 


84  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Farewell  to  kin  and  friends,  farewell 

To  all  whom  here  I  love ; 
I  now  depart,  and  go  to  dwell 

With  God  and  saints  above. 
And  now,  my  kin,  my  friends,  be  true 

To  God  and  duty  here, 
That  when  to  earth  ye  bid  adieu, 

In  heaven  ye  may  appear. 


BEAUTIFUL  Zion !  •  city  renowned ! 

Through  the  universe  wide  thy  praise  shall  resound 

When  straight  from  thy  God  thou  descendest,  the  bride. 

For  thy  husband  in  garments  of  glory  arrayed ; 

Oh  glorious  thy  beauty,  by  prophets  foretold, 

Thy  gates  of  fair  pearls,  thy  streets  of  pure  gold ! 

To  dwell  in  the  city  mine  may  it  be  — 

The  beautiful  city,  Zion  the  free ! 

Beautiful  Zion !  the  hope  of  thy  rest 
Is  a  balm  for  the  weary  and  sorrow-bound  breast ; 
From  the  bars  of  affliction,  and  struggling  with  sighs, 
Sweet  prayers  for  thy  coming  in  breathings  arise ; 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  85 

Eternal  the  joys  in  thy  palaces  found ; 
Forever  the  song  of  the  saved  shall  resound ; 
To  dwell  in  the  city  mine  may  it  be  — 
The  beautiful  city,  Zion  the  free. 


Beautiful  Zion !  desire  of  the  earth ! 

No  sorrow  nor  sighing  in  thee  shall  have  birth  ; 

Prisoners  of  hope,  here  with  burdens  oppressed, 

How  long  they  to  enter  thy  portals  of  rest ! 

Thy  rivers  of  pleasure  eternally  roll, 

Anointing  with  gladness  each  blood-ransomed  soul ; 

To  dwell  in  the  city  mine  may  it  be  — 

The  beautiful  city,  Zion  the  free ! 


III.  THE  PL&CE  OF  REUHIGH. 


FROM  TUB   GEESIAX,  BY  J.  MOXTGOMKET. 


0  YFUL  words,  —  we  meet  again  ! 
Love's  own  language,  comfort  darting 
Through  the  souls  of  friends  at  parting  ! 

Life  in  death  —  we  meet  again  ! 

While  we  walk  this  vale  of  tears, 

Compassed  round  with  care  and  sorrow, 
Gloom  to-day  and  storm  to-morrow, 
"  Meet  again  "  our  bosom  cheers. 

Far  in  exile  when  we  roam, 

O'er  our  lost  endearments  weeping, 
Lonely,  silent  vigils  keeping, 

"  Meet  again  "  transports  us  home. 

When  this  weary  world  is  past, 

Happy  they  whose  spirits  soaring, 

Vast  eternity  exploring, 
"  Meet  again"  in  heaven  at  last. 

8G 


WHAT   18   HEAVEN?  87 


SfraU  tot 


:.    HAKBAUOH. 


OFT  weeping  memory  sits  alone 

Beside  some  grave  at  even, 
And  calls  upon  some  spirit  flown ; 
Oh  say,  shall  those  on  earth  our  own 

Be  ours  again  in  heaven  ? 

Amid  these  lone  sepulchral  shades, 
Where  sleep  our  dear  ones  riven, 

Is  not  some  lingering  spirit  near 

To  tell  if  those  divided  here 
Unite  and  know  in  heaven  ? 

Shall  friends  who  o'er  the  waste  of  life 

By  the  same  storms  are  driven,  — 
Shall  they  recount  in  realms  of  bliss 
The  fortunes  and  the  tears  of  this, 
And  love  again  in  heaven  ? 

When  hearts  which  have  on  earth  been  one 

By  ruthless  death  are  riven$ 
Why  does  the  one  which  death  has  reft 
Drag  off  in  grief  the  one  that's  left, 

If  not  to  meet  in  heaven  ? 


88  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

The  warmest  love  on  earth  is  still 

Imperfect  when  'tis  given ; 
But  there's  a  purer  clime  above, 
Where  perfect  hearts  in  perfect  love 

Unite,  and  this  is  heaven. 

If  love  on  earth  is  but  "  in  part," 

As  light  and  shade  at  even, 
If  sin  doth  plant  a  thorn  between 
The  truest  hearts,  there  is,  I  ween, 

A  perfect  love  in  heaven. 

O  happy  world !  0  glorious  place, 

Where  all  who  are  forgiven 
Shall  find  their  loved  and  lost  below, 
And  hearts,  like  meeting  streams,  shall  flow, 

Forever  one  in  heaven ! 


ace  of  meeting. 


H .    B  OW A  B . 


'Tis  thus  they  press  the  hand  and  part ; 

Thus  have  they  bid  farewell  again ; 
Yet  still  they  commune,  heart  with  heart, 

Linked  by  a  never-broken  chain  ;  — 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN*  89 

Still  ono  in  life  and  one  in  death, 

One  ia  their  hope  of  rest  above, 
One  in  their  joy,  their  Jtrust,  their  faith, 

One  in  each  other's  faithful  love. 

Yet  must  they  part,  and,  parting,  weep ; 

What  else  has  earth  for  them  in  store  ? 
These  farewell  pangs,  how  sharp  and  deep; 

These  farewell  words,  how  sad  and  sore ! 

Yet  shall  they  meet  again  in  peace, 

To  sing  the  song  of  festal  joy, 
Where  none  shall  bid  their  gladness  cease, 

And  none  their  fellowship  destroy  ; 

Where  none  shall  beckon  them  away, 

Nor  bid  their  festival  be  done  ; 
Their  meeting-time  the  eternal  day, 

Their  meeting-place  the  eternal  throne. 

There,  hand  in  hand,  firm  linked  at  last, 

And  heart  to  heart  enfolded  all, 
They'll  smile  upon  the  troubled  past, 

And  wonder  why  they  wept  at  all. 

Then  let  them  press  the  hand  and  part, 
The  dearly  loved,  the  fondly  loving, 

Still,  still,  in  spirit  and  in  heart, 
The  undivided,  unremoving. 


90  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 


,  but 


SAY,  why  should  friendship  grieve  for  those 
Who  safe  arrive  on  Canaan's  shore  ? 

Released  from  all  their  hurtful  foes, 
They  are  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 

How  many  painful  days  on  earth 
Their  fainting  spirits  numbered  o'er  ! 

Now  they  enjoy  a  heavenly  birth  ; 
They  are  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 

Dear  is  the  spot  where  Christians  sleep, 
And  sweet  the  strain  which  angels  pour  ; 

Oh  why  should  we  in  anguish  weep  ? 
They  are  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 

Secure  from  every  mortal  care, 
By  sin  and  sorrow  vexed  no  more, 

Eternal  happiness  they  share 

Who  are  not  lost,  but  gon%  before. 

To  Zion's  peaceful  courts  above 
In  faith  triumphant  may  we  soar, 

Embracing  in  the  arms  of  love 

The  friends  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 


WI1A  T   IS   HEAVEN1  91 

On  Jordan's  bank,  whene'er  we  come, 
And  hear  the  swelling  waters  roar, 

Father,  convey  us  safely  home 

To  friends  not  lost,  but  gone  before. 


ixriijj  Cjrte. 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF  J.  LANGE. 

OUR  beloved  have  departed, 
While  we  tarry,  broken-hearted, 

In  the  dreary,  empty  house ; 
They  have  ended  life's  brief  story ; 
They  have  reached  the  home  of  glory, 

Over  death  victorious ! 

Hush  that  sobbing ;  weep  more  lightly  ; 
On  we  travel,  daily,  nightly, 

To  the  rest  that  they  have  found ; 
Are  we  not  upon  the  river, 
Sailing  fast  to  meet  forever 

On  more  holy,  happy  ground  ? 

Whilst  with  bitter  tears  we're  mourning, 
Thought  to  buried  loves  returning, 

Time  is  hasting  us  along, 
Downward  to  the  grave's  dark  dwelling, 
Upward  to  the  fountain  welling 

With  eternal  life  and  song ! 


92  HY^lfXS    OX   HEAVEN. 

See  ye  not  the  breezes  hieing. 
Clouds  along  in  hurry  flying  ? 

But  we  haste  more  swiftly  on, 
Ever  changing  our  position, 
Ever  tossed  in  strange  transition, 

Here  to-day,  to-morrow  gone. 

Every  hour  that  passes  o'er  us 
Speaks  of  comfort  yet  before  us, 

Of  our  journey's  rapid  rate  ; 
And,  like  posing  vesper  bells, 
The  clock  of  time  its  chiming  tells 

At  eternity's  broad  gate. 

On  we  haste  to  home  invited, 
There  with  friends  to  be  united 

In  a  surer  bond  than  here, 
Meeting  soon,  and  met  forever ; 
Glorious  hope  !  forsake  us  never, 

For  thy  glimmering  light  is  dear. 

Ah,  the  way  is  shining  clearer, 
As  we  journey,  ever  nearer 

To  the  everlasting  home  ; 
Friends  who  there  await  our  landing, 
Comrades  round  the  throne  now  standing, 

We  salute  you,  and  we  come ! 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  93 

0f 


COME,  let  us  join  our  friends  above 

That  have  obtained  the  prize, 
And  on  the  eagle  -wings  of  love 

To  joys  celestial  rise  ; 
Let  all  the  saints  terrestrial  sing 

With  those  to  glory  gone, 
For  all  the  servants  of  our  King 

In  earth  and  heaven  are  one. 

One  family  we  dwell  in  him, 

One  church  above,  beneath, 
Though  now  divided  by  the  stream,  — 

The  narrow  stream  of  death  ; 
One  army  of  the  living  God, 

To  his  command  we  bow  ; 
Part  of  his  host  have  crossed  the  flood, 

And  part  are  crossing  now. 

Ten  thousand  to  their  endless  home 

This  solemn  moment  fly  ; 
And  we  are  to  the  margin  come, 

And  we  expect  to  die  ; 
His  militant,  embodied  host, 

With  wishful  looks  we  stand, 
And  long  to  see  that  happy  coast 

And  reach  the  heavenly  land. 


94  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Our  old  companions  in  distress 

We  haste  again  to  see, 
And  eager  long  for  our  release 

And  full  felicity ; 
Even  now  by  faith  we  join  our  hands 

With  those  that  went  before, 
And  greet  the  blood-besprinkled  bands 

On  the  eternal  shore. 

Our  spirits,  too,  shall  quickly  join, 

Like  theirs,  with  glory  crowned, 
And  shout  to  see  our  Captain's  sign, 

To  hear  his  trumpet  sound ; 
Oh  that  we  now  might  grasp  our  Guide ! 

Oh  that  the  word  were  given ! 
Come,  Lord  of  hosts,  the  waves  divide, 

And  land  us  all  in  heaven  ! 


FROM     THE     GERMAN     OF     M  .    A.    ZILLE. 

MEET  again !  yes,  we  shall  meet  again, 
Though  now  we  part  in  pain  ; 

His  people  all 

Together  Christ  shall  call  — 
Hallelujah ! 


WHAT   IS    HEAVEN?  95 

Soon  the  days  of  absence  shall  be  o'er, 
And  thou  shalt  weep  no  more  ; 

Our  meeting-day 

Shall  wipe  all  tears  away  — 
Hallelujah! 

Now  I  go  with  gladness  to  our  home, 
With  gladness  thou  shalt  come  ; 

There  I  will  wait 

To  meet  thee  at  heaven's  gate  — 
Hallelujah ! 

Dearest,  what  delight  again  to  share 
Our  sweet  communion  there  — 

To  walk  among 

The  holy  ransomed  throng — 
Hallelujah ! 

Here,  in  many  a  grief,  our  hearts  were  one, 
But  there  in  joys  alone  ; 

Joy  fading  never, 

Increasing,  deepening  ever  — 
Hallelujah ! 

Not  to  mortal  sight  can  it  be  given 
To  know  the  bliss  of  heaven ; 

But  thou  shalt  be 

Soon  there,  and  sing  with  me, 
Hallelujah  ! 


96  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Meet  again  !  yes,  we  shall  meet  again, 
Though  now  we  part  in  pain ; 

Together  all 

His  people  Christ  shall  call  — 
Hallelujah  ! 


CHIMSTIAX     EXAMINER. 


THE  earth,  all  light  and  loveliness  in  summer's  golden 

hours, 
Smiles  in  her  bridal  vesture   clad,  and   crowned  with 

festal  flowers 

So  radiantly  beautiful,  so  like  to  heaven  above, 
We  scarce  can  deem  more  fair  that  world  of  perfect  bliss 

and  love. 

Is  this  a  shadow  faint  and  dim  of  that  which  is  to  come  ? 
What  shall  the,  unveiled  glories  be  of  our  celestial  home, 
Where  waves  the  glorious  tree  of  life,  where  streams  of 

bliss  gush  free, 
And  all  is  glowing  in  the  light  of  immortality  ! 

To  see  again  the  home  of  youth,  when  weary  years  have 

passed, 
Serenely  bright  as  when  we  turned  and  looked  upon  it 

last, 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  97 

To  hear  the  voice  of  love,  to  meet  the  rapturous  embrace, 
To  gaze  through  tears  of  gladness  on  each  dear  familiar 
face, — 

Oh !  this  indeed  is  joy,  though  here  we  meet  again  to 

part ; 
But  what  transporting  bliss  awaits  the  pure  and  faithful 

heart, 
Where  it  shall  find  the  loved  and  lost,  those  who  have 

gone  before, 
Where  every  tear  is  wiped  away,  where  partings  are  no 

more ! 

When,  on  devotion's  seraph  wings,  the  spirit  soars  above, 
And  feels  thy  presence,  Father,  Friend,  God  of  eternal 

love  — 

Joys  of  the  earth,  ye  fade  away  before  that  living  ray 
Which  gives  to  the  rapt  soul  a  glimpse  of  pure  and  perfect 

day,— 

A  gleam  of  heaven's  own  light,  though  now  its  brightness 

scarce  appears 
Through  the  dim  shadows  which  are  spread  around  this 

vale  of  tears ; 
But  thine  unclouded  smile,  0  God,  fills  all  that  glorious 

place, 
Where  we  shall  know  as  we  are  known,  and  see  thee  face 

to  face ! 


HYJfXS    ON   UEAVEN. 


BISHOP    MA  XT. 


SHALL  I  e'er  again  thy  features  trace, 

Beloved  friend,  thy  lineaments  review  ? 

Yes ;  though  the  sunken  eye  and  livid  hue, 
And  lips  compressed,  have  quenched  each  lively  grace,  — 
Death's  triumph ;  still  I  recognize  the  face 

Which  thine  for  many  a  year  affection  knew ; 

And  what  forbids  that,  clothed  with  life  anew, 
It  still  on  memory's  tablet  holds  its  place  ? 

Though  then  thy  cheek  with  deathless  bloom  be  sheen, 
And  rays  of  splendor  wreathe  thy  sunlike  brow, 

That  change  I  deem  shall  sever  not  between 
Thee  and  thy  former  self,  nor  disallow 

That  love's  tried  eyes  discern  thee  through  the  screen 
Of  glory  then,  as  of  corruption  now. 


|ftn  g^tr  Companion. 


W.     C.     BRYANT, 


How  shall  I  know  thee  in  the  sphere  which  keeps 
The  disembodied  spirits  of  the  dead, 

When  all  of  thee  that  time  could  wither  sleeps 
And  perishes  among  the  dust  we  tread  ? 


WHAT    IS   HEAVEN?  99 

For  I  shall  feel  the  sting  of  ceaseless  pain 
If  there  I  meet  thy  gentle  presence  not, 

Nor  hear  the  voice  I  love,  nor  read  again 
In  thy  serenest  eyes  the  tender  thought. 

Will  not  thy  own  meek  heart  demand  me  there, 
That  heart  whose  fondest  throbs  to  me  were  given  ? 

My  name  on  earth  was  ever  in  thy  prayer, 

Shall  it  be  banished  from  thy  tongue  in  heaven  ? 

In  meadows  fanned  by  heaven's  life-breathing  wind, 
In  the  resplendence  of  that  glorious  sphere,  ' 

And  larger  movements  of  the  unfettered  mind, 
Wilt  thou  forget  the  love  that  joined  us  here  ? 

The  love  that  lived  through  all  the  stormy  past, 
And  meekly  with  my  harsher  nature  bore, 

And  deeper  grew,  and  tenderer  to  the  last, 
Shall  it  expire  with  life  and  be  no  more  ? 

A  happier  lot  than  mine,  and  larger  light, 

Awaits  thee  there  ;  for  thou  hast  bowed  thy  will 

In  cheerful  homage  to  the  rule  of  right, 
And  lovest  all,  and  renderest  good  for  ill. 

For  me,  the  sordid  cares  in  which  I  dwell 

Shrink  arid  consume  the  heart,  as  heat  the  scroll ; 

And  wrath  has  left  its  scar,  —  that  fire  of  hell,  — 
Hasieft  its  frightful  scar  upon  my  soul. 


100  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Yet,  though  thou  wear'st  the  glory  of  the  sky, 
Wilt  thou  not  keep  the  same  beloved  name, 

The  same  fair,  thoughtful  brow,  and  gentle  eye, 
Lovelier  in  heaven's  sweet  climate,  yet  the  same  ? 

Shalt  thou  not  teach  me,  in  that  calmer  home, 
The  wisdom  that  I  learned  so  ill  in  this,  — 

The  wisdom  which  is  love,  —  till  I  become 
Thy  fit  companion  in  that  land  of  bliss  ? 


tot  sljall  gfctt  anb  gtst. 


H.     BOUAK. 


WHERE  the  faded  flower  shall  freshen,  — 

Freshen  never  more  to  fade  ; 
Where  the  shaded  sky  shall  brighten,  — 

Brighten  never  more  to  shade  ; 
Where  the  sun-blaze  never  scorches  ; 

Where  the  star-beams  cease  to  chill  ; 
Where  no  tempest  stirs  the  echoes 

Of  the  wood,  or  wave,  or  hill  ; 
Where  the  morn  shall  wake  in  gladness, 

And  the  noon  the  joy  prolong, 
Where  the  daylight  dies  in  fragrance, 

Mid  the  burst  of  holy  'song,  — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest, 
Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest  ! 


V/HA  T   IS   HEAVEN?  101 

Where  no  shadow  shall  bewilder ; 

Where  life's  vain  parade  is  o'er ; 
Where  the  sleep  of  sin  is  broken, 

And  the  dreamer  dreams  no  more ; 
Where  the  bond  is  never  severed,  — 

Partings,  claspings,  sob,  and  moan, 
Midnight  waking,  twilight  weeping, 

Heavy  noon-tide,  —  all  are  done  ; 
Where  the  child  has  found  its  mother, 

Where  the  mother  finds  the  child ; 
Where  dear  families  are  gathered, 

That  were  scattered  011  the  wild,  — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest, 
Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest ! 

Where  the  hidden  wound  is  healed  ; 

Where  the  blighted  life  re-blooms  ; 
Where  the  smitten  heart  the  freshness 

Of  its  buoyant  youth  resumes  ; 
Where  the  love  that  here  we  lavish 

On  the  withering  leaves  of  time 
Shall  have  fadeless  flowers  to  fix  on, 

In  an  ever  spring-bright  clime  ; 
Where  we  find  the  joy  of  loving 

As  we  never  loved  before,  — 
Loving  on,  unchilled,  unhindered, 

Loving  once  and  evermore,  — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest, 
Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest ! 

9* 


102  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Where  a  blasted  world  shall  brighten 

Underneath  a  bluer  sphere, 
And  a  softer,  gentler  sunshine 

Shed  its  healing  splendor  here ; 
Where  earth's  barren  vales  shall  blossom, 

Putting  on  her  robe  of  green, 
And  a  purer,  fairer  Eden 

Be  where  only  wastes  have  been ; 
Where  a  King  in  kingly  glory, 

Such  as  earth  has  never  known, 
Shall  assume  the  righteous  sceptre, 

Claim  and  wear  the  holy  crown,  — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest, 
Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest ! 


Sister,  i%  Starts  % 


SISTER  and  friend,  why  starts  the  tear 
That  kindred  minds,  no  longer  near, 
Perhaps  no  more  shall  mingle  here 
Together? 

Ere  bowed  beneath  affliction's  rod, 
The  peaceful  paths  of  life  we  trod, 
And  journeyed  to  the  house  of  God 
Together. 


WHAT   18   HEAVEN?  103 

No  separate  wish  our  thoughts  employed, 
No  separate  care  our  bliss  alloyed ; 
Ever  we  sorrowed  or  enjoyed 

Together. 

What  though  no  more  our  souls  prepare 
The  various  ills  of  life  to  bear, 
And  every  transient  joy  to  share 
Together  ? 

We  have  a  fairer  home  on  high,  — 
Dimly  its  bliss  we  here  descry,  — 
Where  we  shall  spend  eternity 

Together. 

And  where  unbroken  friendship  reigns, 
Nor  of  divided  joys  complains, 
Shall  rise  our  sweet  angelic  strains 
Together. 


IY.    OUR  REST. 


m  |Umah«i|r  a 


FROM  THE  GERMAN,  BY  MISS  WIXKWOKTH. 

ES,  there  remaineth.  yet  a  rest ; 

Arise,  sad  heart,  that  darkly  pines, 
By  heavy  care  and  pain  oppressed, 

On  whom  no  sun  of  gladness  shines ; 
Look  to  the  Lamb  !  in  yon  bright  fields 
,  Thou'lt  know  the  joy  his  presence  yields ; 

Cast  off  thy  load  and  thither  haste  ; 
Soon  shalt  thou  fight  and  bleed  no  more, 
Soon,  soon  thy  weary  course  be  o'er, 
And  deep  the  rest  thou  then  shalt  taste. 

The  rest  appointed  thee  of  God, 

The  rest  that  nought  shall  break  or  move, 

That  ere  this  earth  by  man  .was  trod 
"Was  set  apart  for  thee  by  Love, — 

Our  Saviour  gave  his  life  to  win 

This  rest  for  thee  ;  oh,  enter  in ! 

104 


WHAT   IS    HEAVEN?  105 

Hear  how  his  voice  sounds  far  and  wide  ! 

"  Ye  weary  souls,  no  more  delay ; 

Loiter  not  faithless  by  the  way ; 
Here  in  my  peace  and  rest  abide !  " 


Ye  heavy-laden,  come  to  Him ! 

Ye  who  are  bent  with  many  a  load, 
Come  from  your  prisons  drear  and  dim ; 

Toil  not  thus  sadly  on  your  road ! 
Ye've  borne  the  burden  of  the  day, 
And  hear  ye  not  your  Saviour  say, 
"  I  am  your  refuge  and  your  rest "  ? 

His  children  ye,  of  heavenly  birth, 

Howe'er  may  rage  sin,  hell,  or  earth, 
Here  are  ye  safe,  here  calmly  blest. 


Yonder  in  joy  the  sheaves  we  bring, 

Whose  seed  was  sown  on  earth  in  tears ; 
There  in  our  Father's  house  we  sing 

The  song  too  sweet  for  mortal  ears ; 
Sorrow  and  sighing  all  are  past, 
And  pain  and  death  are  fled  at  last ; 
There  with  the  Lamb  of  God  we  dwell ; 

He  leads  us  to  the  crystal  river ; 

He  wipes  away  all  tears  forever ; 
What  there  is  ours  no  tongue  can  tell. 


106  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Hunger  nor  thirst  can  pain  us  there ; 

The  time  of  recompense  is  come ; 
Nor  cold,  nor  scorching  heat  we  bear, 

Safe  sheltered  in  our  Saviour's  home ; 
The  Lamb  is  in  the  midst,  and  those 
Who  followed  him  through  shame  and  woes 
Are  crowned  with  honor,  joy  and  peace ; 

The  dry  bones  gather  life  again ; 

One  Sabbath  over  all  shall  reign, 
Wherein  all  toil  and  labor  cease. 

There  is  untroubled  calm  and  light ; 

No  gnawing  care  shall  mar  our  rest ; 
Ye  weary,  heed  this  word  aright ; 

Come,  lean  upon  your  Saviour's  breast ! 
Fain  would  I  linger  here  no  more, 
Fain  to  yon  happier  world  upsoar, 
And  join  that  bright  expectant  band ! 

Oh  raise,  my  soul,  the  joyful  song 

That  rings  through  yon  triumphant  throng ; 
Thy  perfect  rest  is  nigh  at  hand ! 


<f  it  jpjeafom  vismz  is 

Nor  in  this  weary  world  of  ours 
Can  perfect  rest  be  found ; 

Thorns  mingle  with  its  fairest  flowers, 
Even  on  cultured  ground. 


WHAT    IS   HEAVEN?  1Q7 

A  brook  to  drink  of  by  the  way, 

A  rock  its  shade  to  cast, 
May  cheer  our  path  from  day  to  day, 

But  such  not  long  can  last ; 
Earth's  pilgrim  still  his  loins  must  gird 

To  seek  a  lot  more  blest ; 
And  this  must  be  his  onward  word,  — 

"  In  heaven  alone  is  rest." 

This  cannot  be  our  resting-place, 

Though  now  and  then  a  gleam 
Of  lovely  nature,  heavenly  grace, 

May  on  thee  briefly  beam ; 
Grief's  pelting  shower,  care's  darkening  shroud, 

Still  falls,  or  hovers  near ; 
And  sin's  pollutions  often  cloud 

The  light  of  life  while  here ; 
Nor  till  it  "  shuffle  off  the  coil" 

In  which  it  lies  depressed, 
Can  the  pure  spirit  cease  from  toil : 

"  In  heaven  alone  is  rest ; "  —  * 

Rest  to  the  weary,  anxious  soul, 

That  on  life's  toilsome  road 
Bears  onward  to  the  destined  goal 

Its  heavy,  galling  load  ; 
Rest  unto  eyes  that  often  weep 

Beneath  the  day's  broad  light, 


108  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Or  oftener  painful  vigils  keep 

Through  the  dark  hours  of  night ; 

But  let  us  bear  with  pain  and  care, 
As  ills  to  be  redressed, 

Relying  on  the  promise  fair,  — 
"  In  heaven  there  will  be  rest." 


f  crfki 

SWEET  is  the  name  of  rest ; 

How  much  the  word  conveys ! 
It  is  to  be  supremely  blest 

In  the  bright  world  of  praise. 

It  is  to  rest  from  sin, 

Which  here  will  still  endure ; 
The  holy  place  to  enter  in, 

And  be  forever  pure. 

It  is  to  rest  from  pain, 

From  grief,  from  doubt,  from  fear ; 
No  sickness,  parting,  death  again, 

Nor  any  falling  tear. 

It  is  to  rest  with  Him 

Whom  now  unseen  we  trust, 
With  cherubim  and  seraphim, 

And  spirits  of  the  just ; 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  109 

A  perfect  cloudless  rest, 

An  endless  Sabbath  day , 
Blessed  portion  yet  to  be  possessed, 

And  never  fade  away ! 


Jf  am 


S.    EOBEETS. 


MY  feet  are  worn  and  weary  with  the  march 
Over  rough  roads  and  up  the  steep  hill-side ; 

Oh,  city  of  our  God  !  I  fain  would  see 

Thy  pastures  green,  where  peaceful  waters  glide. 

My  hands  are  weary,  laboring,  toiling  on, 

Day  after  day,  for  perishable  meat ; 
Oh,  city  of  our  God  !  I  fain  would  rest ; 

I  sigh  to  gain  thy  glorious  mercy-seat. 

My  garments,  travel-worn  and  stained  with  dust, 
Oft  rent  by  briers  and  thorns  that  crowd  my  way, 

Would  fain  be  made,  0  Lord,  my  righteousness, 
Spotless  and  white  in  heaven's  unclouded  ray. 

My  eyes  are  weary  looking  at  the  sin, 
Impiety,  and  scorn,  upon  the  earth ; 
Oh,  city  of  our  God  !  within  thy  walls 

All,  all  are  clothed  upon  with  the  new  birth. 

10 


110  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

My  heart  is  weary  of  its  own  deep  sin, 
Sinning,  repenting,  sinning  still  alway  ; 

When  shall  my  soul  thy  glorious  presence  feel, 
And  find  its  guilt,  dear  Saviour,  washed  away  ? 

Patience,  poor  soul ;  the  Saviour's  feet  were  worn, 
The  Saviour's  heart  and  hands  were  weary,  too, 

His  garments  stained,  and  travel-worn,  and  old, 
His  sacred  eyes  blinded  with  tears  for  you. 

Love  thou  the  path  of  sorrow  that  he  trod ; 

Toil  on,  and  wait  in  patience  for  thy  rest ; 
Oh,  city  of  our  God !  we  soon  shall  see 

Thy  glorious  walls,  home  of  the  loved  and  blest ! 


tooulir 


OH,  had  I  wings  like  yonder  bird, 
That  soars  above  its  downy  nest, 

I'd  fly  away,  unseen,  unheard, 
Where  I  might  be  for  aye  at  rest. 

I  would  not  seek  these  fragrant  bowers 
Which  bloom  beneath  a  cloudless  sky, 

Nor  could  I  rest  amidst  the  flowers 
That  deck  the  groves  of  Araby. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  HI 

I'd  fly,  but  not  to  scenes  below, 

Though  ripe  with  every  promised  bliss ; 

For  what's  the  world  ?  a  garnished  show, 
A  decorated  wilderness. 

Oh,  I  would  fly  and  be  at  rest, 

Far,  far  beyond  each  glittering  sphere 

That  hangs  upon  the  azure  breast 
Of  all  we  know  of  heaven  here. 

And  there  I'd  rest,  amidst  the  joys 

Angelic  lips  alone  can  tell, 
Where  bloom  the  bowers  of  Paradise, 

Where  songs  in  sweetest  transports  swell. 

There  would  I  rest,  beneath  that  throne 
Whose  glorious  circle  gilds  the  sky, 

Where  sits  Jehovah,  who  alone 

Can  wipe  the  mourner's  weeping  eye. 


•m  sjrall  I  fe  vt 


CHUECII     OF    ENGLAND     QUAKTEIJLY. 

WHEN  shall  I  be  at  rest  ?  my  trembling  heart 
Grows  weary  of  its  burden,  sickening  still 
With  hope  deferred ;  Oh  that  it  were  thy  will 

To  loose  my  bonds  and  take  me  where  Thou  art ! 


HYJIXS    OX   HE  A  VEX. 


When  shall  I  be  at  rest  ?    My  eyes  grow  dim 

With  straining  through  the  gloom ;  I  scarce  can  see 
The  waymarks  that  my  Saviour  left  for  me  ; 

Would  it  were  morn  and  I  were  safe  with  him ! 

When  shall  I  be  at  rest  ?    Hand  over  hand 
I  grasp  and  climb  an  ever  steeper  hill, 
A  rougher  path ;  Oh  that  it  were  thy  will 

My  tired  feet  might  tread  the  promised  land ! 

Oh  that  I  were  at  rest !  a  thousand  fears 
Come  thronging  o'er  me  lest  I  fail  at  last ; 
Would  I  were  safe,  all  toil  and  danger  past, 

And  thine  own  hand  might  wipe  away  my  tears ! 

Oh  that  I  were  at  rest  like  some  I  love, 

Whose  last  fond  looks  drew  half  my  life  away, 
Seeming  to  plead  that  either  they  might  stay 

With  me  on  earth,  or  I  with  them  above ! 

But  why  these  murmurs  ?  thou  didst  never  shrink 
From  any  toil  or  weariness  for  me, — 
Not  even  from  that  last  deep  agony ; 

Shall  I  beneath  my  little  trials  sink  ? 

Xo,  Lord,  for  when  I  am  indeed  at  rest, 
One  taste  of  that  deep  bliss  will  quite  efface 
The  sternest  memories  of  my  earthly  race, 

Save  but  to  swell  the  sense  of  being  blest. 


WHAT   IS   HEAVEN?  113 

Then  lay  on  mo  whatever  cross  I  need 

To  bring  me  there ;  I  know  thou  canst  not  be 
Unkind,  unfaithful,  or  untrue  to  me : 

Shall  I  not  toil  for  thee,  when  thou  for  me  didst 
bleed? 


Seat. 

REST,  weary  soul ; 

The  penalty  is  borne,  the  ransom  paid, 
For  all  thy  sins  full  satisfaction  made ; 
Strive  not  thyself  to  do  what  Christ  has  done ; 
Take  the  free  gift,  and  make  the  joys  thine  own ; 
No  more  by  pangs  of  guilt  and  fear  to  sin  distressed, 

Rest,  sweetly  rest. 

Rest,  weary  heart, 

From  all  thy  silent  griefs  and  secret  pain, 
Thy  profitless  regrets  and  longings  vain ; 
Wisdom  and  love  have  ordered  all  the  past ; 
All  shall  be  light  and  blessedness  at  last ; 
Cast  off  the  cares  that  have  so  long  oppressed,  — 

Rest,  sweetly  rest. 

Rest,  weary  head ; 
Lie  down  to  slumber  in  the  peaceful  tomb ; 

Light  from  above  has  broken  through  its  gloom ; 

10* 


114  HYJIXS    ON   HEAVE*. 

Here,  in  the  place  where  once  thy  Saviour  lay, 
Where  he  shall  wake  thee  on  a  future  day,  — 
Like  a  tired  child  upon  its  mother's  breast, 
Rest,  sweetly  rest. 

RestTspirit  free, 

In  the  green  pasture  of  the  heavenly  shore, 
Where  sin  and  sorrow  can  approach  no  more ; 
With  all  the  flock  by  the  Good.  Shepherd  fed, 
Beside  the  streams  of  life  eternal  led, 
Forever  with  thy  God  and  Saviour  blest, 

Rest,  sweetly  rest. 


i  SBearg  nn  at 


B.    II.    MILMAX 


BROTHER,  thou  art  gone  before  us, 

And  thy  saintly  soul  is  flown 
Where  tears  are  wiped  from  every  eye, 

And  sorrow  is  unknown  ; 
From  the  burthen  of  the  flesh, 

And  from  care  and  fear  released, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 

And  the  weary  are  at  rest. 


WHAT   18   HEAVEN?  H5 

The  toilsome  way  thou'st  travelled  o'er, 

And  borne  the  heavy  load ; 
But  Christ  hath  taught  thy  languid  feet 

To  reach  his  blest  abode. 
Thou'rt  sleeping  now,  like  Lazarus 

Upon  his  father's  breast, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 

And  the  weary  are  at  rest. 


Sin  can  never  taint  thee  now, 

Nor  doubt  thy  faith  assail, 
Nor  thy  meek  trust  in  Jesus  Christ 

And  the  Holy  Spirit  fail ; 
And  there  thou'rt  sure  to  meet  the  good, 

Whom  on  earth  thou  lovedst  best, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 

And  the  weary  are  at  rest. 


"  Earth  to  earth,"  and  "  dust  to  dust," 

The  solemn  priest  hath  said ; 
So  we  lay  the  turf  above  thee  now, 

And  we  seal  thy  narrow  bed ; 
But  thy  spirit,  brother,  soars  away 

Among  the  faithful  blest, 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 

And  the  weary  are  at  rest. 


116  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

And  when  the  Lord  shall  summon  us 

Whom  thou  hast  left  behind, 
May  we,  untainted  by  the  world, 

As  sure  a  welcome  find ; 
May  each,  like  thee,  depart  in  peace, 

To  be  a  glorious  guest 
Where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling, 

And  the  weary  are  at  rest. 


Jra  m  fa 


I.    OUR  GOD. 


jjafo  I  in  Beaten  fort  C  fc 


f 


SIB    ROBEKT    GRANT. 


ORD  of  earth  !  thy  bounteous  hand 

Well  this  glorious  frame  has  planned  ; 
Woods  that  wave,  and  hills  that  tower, 

Ocean  rolling  in  his  power,  — 
All  that  strikes  the  gaze  unsought, 

All  that  charms  the  lonely  thought,  — 
Friendship  —  gem  transcending  price, 

Love  —  a  flower  from  Paradise  ; 
Yet,  amid  this  scene  so  fair, 
Should  I  cease  thy  smile  to  share, 
What  were  all  its  joys  to  me  ? 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  " 

119 


120  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Lord  of  heaven !  beyond  our  sight 
Rolls  a  world  of  purer  light ; 
There,  in  love's  unclouded  reign, 
Parted  hands  shall  join  again ; 
Martyrs  there,  and  prophets  high, 
Blaze,  a  glorious  company, 
While  immortal  music  rings 
From  unnumbered  seraph  strings ; 
Oh,  that  scene  is  passing  fair ! 
Yet,  should' st  thou  be  absent  there, 
What  were  all  its  joys  to  me  ? 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ? " 


Lord  of  earth  and  heaven !  my  breast 
Seeks  in  thee  its  only  rest ; 
I  was  lost  —  thy  accents  mild 
Homeward  lured  thy  wandering  child ; 
I  was  blind  —  thy  healing  ray 
Charmed  the  long  eclipse  away ; 
Source  of  every  joy  I  know, 
Solace  of  my  every  woe ; 
Yet  should  once  thy  smile  divine 
Cease  upon  my  soul  to  shine, 
What  were  heaven  or  earth  to  me  ? 
"  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  " 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  121 


n 


EDMUND     SPENSEE. 

His  sceptre  is  the  rod  of  Righteousnesse, 
With  which  He  bruseth  all  His  foes  to  dust, 

And  the  great  dragon  strongly  doth  represse, 
Under  the  rigour  of  His  iudgment  iust ; 
His  seate  is  Truth,  to  which  the  faithfull  trust, 

From  whence  proceed  her  beanies  so  pure  and  bright, 

That  all  about  Him  sheddeth  glorious  light. 

But  that  immortall  light  which  there  doth  shine 
Is  many  thousand  times  more  bright,  more  cleare, . 

More  excellent,  more  glorious,  more  divine, 

Through  which  to  God  all  moriall  actions  here, 
And  even  the  thoughts  of  men,  do  plaine  appeare ; 

For  from  th'  Eternall  Truth  it  doth  proceed, 

Through  heavenly  vertue  which  her  beames  doe  breed. 

With  the  great  glorie  of  that  wondrous  light 

His  throne  is  all  encompassed  around, 
And  hid  in  his  owne  brightnesse  from  the  sight 

Of  all  that  look  thereon  with  eyes  unsound  ; 

And  underneath  his  feet  are  to  be  found 
Thunder,  and  lightning,  and  tempestuous  fyre, 

The  instruments  of  his  avenging  yre. 
11 


122  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

There,  in  his  bosome,  Sapience  doth  sit, 
The  soveraine  dearling  of  the  Deity, 

Clad  like  a  queene,  in  royall  robes  most  fit 
For  so  great  powre  and  peerelesse  majesty, 
And  all  with  gemmes  and  iewels  gorgeously 

Adorned,  that  brighter  then  the  starres  appeare, 

And  make  her  native  brightnesse  seem  more  cleare. 

And  on  her  head  a  crown  of  purest  gold 
Is  set,  in  signe  of  highest  soverainty ; 

And  in  her  hand  a  scepter  she  doth  hold, 

With  which  she  rules  the  house  of  God  011  hy, 
And  menageth  the  ever-moving  sky, 

And  in  the  same  these  lower  creatures  all 

Subiected  to  her  powre  imperiall. 


In  %  f  igfjt  s&aU  fa*  ete 


FROM  THE   ITAL1AX  OF  DAXTE,  BY  I.  C.  WEIGHT. 

A  LIGHT  there  is  above  which,  plainly  shows 
The  great  Creator  to  the  creature,  who 

In  seeing  him  alone  can  find  repose, 

And  in  a  circle  spreads  to  such  degree, 
That  for  the  sun  would  its  circumference 

A  girdle  of  too  great  dimensions  be  ; 


WHO    ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  123 

All  its  appearance  one  vast  ray  of  light 

Reflected  from  the  swiftest  heaven,  which  thence 
Derives  both  its  existence  and  its  might. 
And  as  a  cliff  looks  down  upon  the  bed 

Of  some  clear  stream,  to  see  how  richly  crowned 
With  flowers  and  foliage  is  its  lofty  head, 
So,  all  from  earth  who  hither  e'er  returned, 

Seated  on  more  than  thousand  thrones  around, 
Within  the  Eternal  Light  themselves  discerned  ; 
And  if  the  very  lowest  tier  receives 

A  light  so  great,  how  wonderful  must  be 
This  rose  expanded  in  its  utmost  leaves ! 


m      s 


LORD  of  the  worlds  above, 

How  pleasant  and  how  fair 
The  dwellings  of  thy  love, 
Thy  earthly  temples,  are ; 
To  thine  abode 
My  heart  aspires, 
With  warm  desires 
To  see  my  God. 


1-24  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

The  sparrow  for  her  young 

With  pleasure  seeks  her  nest, 
And  wandering  swallows  long 
To  find  their  wonted  rest ; 
My  spirit  faints^ 
With  equal  zeal 
To  rise  and  dwell 
Among  thy  saints. 

Oh  happy  souls  that  pray 

Where  God  appoints  to  hear ; 
Oh  happy  men  that  pay 

Their  constant  service  there ; 
They  praise  thee  still, 
And  happy  they 
That  love  the  way 
To  Zion's  hill. 

They  go  from  strength  to  strength, 
Through  this  dark  vale  of  tears, 
Till  each  arrives  at  length, 
Till  each  in  heaven  appears. 
Oh  glorious  seat, 
When  God  our  King 
Shall  thither  bring 
Our  willing  feet. 


WHO   ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  125 


JEREMY  TAYLOH. 


0  BEAUTEOUS  God,  uncircumscribed  treasure 

Of  an  eternal  pleasure  ! 

Thy  throne  is  seated  far 

Above  the  highest  star, 
Where  thou  prepar'st  a  glorious  place 
Within  the  brightness  of  thy  face 

For  every  spirit 

To  inherit 

That  builds  his  hopes  upon  thy  merit, 
And  loves  thee  with  a  holy  charity. 
What  ravished  heart,  seraphic  tongue,  or  eyes 

Clear  as  the  morning's  rise, 

Can  speak,  or  think,  or  see, 

That  bright  eternity, 

Where  the  great  King's  transparent  throne 
Is  of  an  entire  jasper  stone  ? 

There  the  eye 

O'  th'  chrysolite, 

And  a  sky 

Of  diamonds,  rubies,  chrysoprase, 
And,  above  all,  thy  holy  face, 
Makes  an  eternal  clarity 
When  thou  thy  jewels  up  dost  bind  ;  that  day 

Remember  us,  we  pray, 
11* 


11  Y  M  NS    ON   HE  A  VE  N . 

That  where  the  beryl  lies, 

And  the  crystal,  'bove  the  skies, 
There  thou  may'st  appoint  us  place 
Within  the  brightness  of  thy  face, 

And  our  soul 

In  the  scroll 

Of  life  and  blissfulness  enroll, 
That  we  may  praise  thee  to  eternity : 

Allelujah ! 


&Ijr0ae  snft 


W.    A.    MUIILEXBEEO. 

SINCE  o'er  thy  footstool  here  below 
Such  radiant  gems  are  strewn, 

Oh  what  magnificence  must  glow, 
My  God,  about  thy  throne  ! 

So  brilliant  here  those  drops  of  light, 

Where  the  full  ocean  rolls,  how  bright  ! 

If  night's  blue  curtain  of  the  sky, 
With  thousand  stars  inwrought, 

Hung  like  a  royal  canopy 

With  glittering  diamonds  fraught, 

Be,  Lord,  thy  temple's  outer  veil, 

What  splendor  at  the  shrine  must  dwell  ! 


WHO   ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  127 

Tho  dazzling  sun,  at  noontide  hour, 

Forth  from  his  flaming  vase 
Flinging  o'er  earth  the  golden  shower 

Till  vale  and  mountain  blaze, 
But  shows,  0  Lord,  one  beam  of  thine  ; 
What,  then,  the  day  where  thou  dost  shine ! 


Ah,  how  shall  these  dim  eyes  endure 
That  noon  of  living  rays  ; 

Or  how  my  spirit,  so  impure, 
Upon  thy  glory  gaze  ? 

Anoint,  0  Lord,  anoint  my  sight, 

And  robe  me  for  that  world  of  light. 


Sterrg 


FEOM   THE   LATIN,  BY  WILLIAMS. 


OPEN  is  the  starry  hall  ; 

Hear  ye  ?  'tis  the  Bridegroom's  call  ! 

Holy  virgins,  one  and  all, 

Ready  stand, 
For  the  heavenly  festival 

Is  at  hand  ! 


128  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Come  at  last  the  nuptial  day, 
Tears  forever  passed  away ; 
Fled  the  prison-house,  the  clay, 

And  the  thrall ; 
God  forever  your  sure  stay, 

And  your  all ! 

In  his  presence  is  the  store, 
Purest  joys  for  evermore, 
And  the  fountain  flowing  o'er ; 

No  more  night, 
Safe  upon  the  happy  shore 

Of  the  light ! 

What  was  royalty's  short  flower, 
Or  the  triumph  of  an  hour  ? 
What  fleet  pleasure's  fading  bower 

And  control  ? 
God's  own  presence  is  the  dower 

Of  the  soul ! 

Wondrous,  glorious  mystery, 
When  the  soul  from  flesh  is  free ! 
Bond  of  sweetness  which  shall  be 

When  the  heart 
Joined  is  to  Deity, 

Never  to  part ! 


II.    OUR  S&YIOUR. 


FEOM  THE  SPANISH,  BY  BRYANT. 

EGION  of  life  and  light, 

Land  of  the  good  whose  earthly  toils 

are  o'er, 
Nor  frost  nor  heat  may  blight 

Thy  vernal  beauty,  fertile  shore, 
Yielding  thy  blessed   fruits   for  ever- 
more! 


There,  without  crook  or  sling, 
Walks  the  Good  Shepherd ;  blossoms  white  and  red 

Round  his  meek  temples  cling ; 

And  to  sweet  pastures  led, 
His  own  loved  flock  beneath  his  eye  is  fed. 

He  guides,  and  near  him  they 
Follow  delighted ;  for  he  makes  them  go 

Where  dwells  eternal  May, 

And  heavenly  roses  blow, 
Deathless,  and  gathered  but  again  to  grow. 

129 


130  Ill'JIXS    ON   HEAVEN. 

He  leads  them  to  the  height 
Named  of  the  infinite  and  long-sought  Good, 
And  fountains  of  delight ;  • 
And  where  his  feet  have  stood 
Springs  up  along  the  way  their  tender  food. 

And  when,  in  the  mid  skies, 
The  climbing  sun  has  reached  his  highest  bound, 

Eeposing  as  he  lies, 

With  all  his  flock  around, 
He  witches  the  still  air  with  numerous  sound. 

From  his  sweet  lute  flow  forth 
Immortal  harmonies,  of  power  to  still 

All  passions  born  of  earth, 

And  draw  the  ardent  will 
Its  destiny  of  goodness  to  fulfil. 

Might  but  a  little  part, 
A  wandering  breath,  of  that  high  melody 

Descend  into  my  heart 

And  change  it,  till  it  be 
Transformed  and  swallowed  up,  0  Love,  in  thee ! 

Ah !  then  my  soul  should  know, 
Beloved,  where  thou  liest  at  noon  of  day, 
And,  from  this  place  of  woe 
Released,  should  take  its  way 
To  mingle  with  thy  flock,  and  never  stray. 


WHO    ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  131 


FROM  THE  SPANISH  OF  LUIS  DE  LEON,  BY  OKO.  TICKKOB. 

AND  dost  thou,  holy  Shepherd,  leave 

Thine  unprotected  flock  alone 
Here,  in  this  darksome  vale,  to  grieve, 

While  thou  ascend' st  thy  glorious  throne  ? 

Oh  where  can  they  their  hopes  now  turn 
Who  never  lived  but  on  thy  love  ? 

Where  rest  the  hearts  that  for  thee  burn 
When  thou  art  lost  in  light  above  ? 

How  shall  those  eyes  now  find  repose 
That  turn  in  vain  thy  smile  to  see  ? 

What  can  they  hear  save  mortal  woes 
Who  lose  thy  voice's  melody  ? 

And  who  shall  lay  his  tranquil  hand 
Upon  the  troubled  ocean's  might  ? 

Who  hush  the  winds  by  his  command  ? 
Who  guide  us  through  this  starless  night  ? 

For  Thou  art  gone !  that  cloud  so  bright, 
That  bears  thee  from  our  love  away, 

Springs  upward  through  the  dazzling  light, 
And  leaves  us  here  to  weep  and  pray ! 


132  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 


Christ  |Ui 


I.  H.  BATHl'BST. 


WHY  search  ye  in  the  narrow  tomb 

For  him  who  lives  on  high  ? 
Heaven  spreads  her  gates  to  make  him  room ; 

His  glory  fills  the  sky. 

Lift  up  your  hearts  and  stretch  your  eyes ; 

The  Saviour  is  not  here  ; 
Behold  the  Conqueror  arise, 

To  grace  a  brighter  sphere. 

Angels,  with  loud,  exulting  songs, 

Welcome  their  Lord  again ; 
To  us  the  victory  belongs ; 

For  us  the  Lamb  was  slain. 

And  shall  we,  Lord,  ascend  with  thee, 

And  see  thee  as  thou  art, 
From  death's  terrific  power  made  free, 

And  saved  from  Satan's  dart  ? 

Saviour,  since  thou  art  gone  before, 

Oh  grant  that  we  may  go 
Where  sin's  dark  empire  is  no  more, 

And  death  a  vanquished  foe ! 


WHO   ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  133 


FEOM  THE  LATIN  OF  BEDE. 


A  HYMN  of  glory  let  us  sing  ! 
New  hymns  throughout  the  world  shall  ring  ; 
Christ,  by  a  way  none  ever  trod, 
Ascendeth  to  the  throne  of  God. 

The  angels  say  to  the  eleven, 
«  Why  stand  ye  gazing  into  heaven  ?  " 
This  is  the  Saviour  —  this  is  He  ! 
Jesus  hath  triumphed  gloriously. 

They  said  the  Lord  should  come  again, 
As  these  beheld  him  rising  then, 
Calm  soaring  through  the  radiant  sky, 
Mounting  its  dazzling  summits  high. 

May  our  affections  thither  tend, 
And  thither  constantly  ascend, 
Where,  seated  on  the  Father's  throne, 
Thee,  reigning  in  the  heavens,  we  own  ! 

Be  thou  our  present  joy,  0  Lord, 
Who  wilt  be  ever  our  reward  ; 
And,  as  the  countless  ages  flee, 

May  all  our  glory  be  in  thee  ! 
12 


134  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 


<%ist 


SOFT  as  falls  the  heavenly  dew, 

Weary  nature  to  renew, 

Or  the  flakes,  unearthly  pure, 

Of  the  snowy  coverture  ; 

Thus,  too  high  for  mortal  sense, 

Christ  his  presence  doth  dispense, 

Seen  in  diviner  sympathies, 

In  sacred  joys  that  rise 

And  waft  the  soul  to  heaven  with  rapture's  sighs. 


Jesus  hath  left  his  flock  below, 
And  gone  into  the  mount  to  pray 

For  his  poor  wanderers,  left  to  go 
Without  him  on  the  stormy  way ; 

But  when  the  tempest  rageth  high 

With  dread  their  fearful  hearts  to  try, 

Their  tearful  eyes  shall  see  him  nigh, 

Stilling  the  tempest  into  peace, 

Bidding  all  dark  forebodings  cease, 

Shedding  abroad  his  heavenly  love, 

Inspiring  hopes  of  joys  above, 

Where  soon  upon  the  blissful  shore 

They  from  their  Lord  shall  go  on  stormy  waves 
no  more. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  135 

of 


HAIL  the  day  that  sees  him  rise 
Ravished  from  our  wistful  eyes  ! 
Christ,  awhile  to  mortals  given, 
Reascends  his  native  heaven  ; 
There  the  mighty  Conqueror  waits  ; 
"  Lift  your  heads,  eternal  gates  ! 
Wide  unfold  the  radiant  scene  ! 
Take  the  King  of  Glory  in  !  " 

Circled  round  with  angel-powers, 
Their  triumphant  Lord  and  ours, 
Conqueror  o'er  death,  hell,  and  sin,— 
Take  the  King  of  Glory  in  ; 
Him  though  kindest  heaven  receives, 
Still  he  loves  the  earth  he  leaves  ; 
Though  returned  to  his  throne, 
Still  he  calls  mankind  his  own. 

See,  he  lifts  his  hands  above  ; 
See,  he  shows  the  prints  of  love  ; 
Hark  !  his  gracious  lips  bestow 
Blessings  on  his  church  below  ; 
Still  for  us  he  intercedes  ; 
Prevalent  his  death  he  pleads  ; 
Next  himself  prepares  our  place, 
Saviour  of  the  human  race. 


136  IirifNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

"  Master,"  may  we  ever  say, 
"  Taken  from  our  head  to-day, 
See  thy  faithful  servants,  see, 
Ever  gazing  up  to  thee ! 
Grant,  though  parted  from  our  sight, 
High  above  yon  azure  height, 
Grant  our  hearts  may  thither  rise, 
Seeking  thee  beyond  the  skies ! " 

Ever  upward  may  we  move, 
Wafted  on  the  wings  of  love, 
Looking  when  our  Lord  shall  come, 
Longing,  gasping  after  home  ! 
There  may  we  with  thee  remain, 
Partners  of  thine  endless  reign, 
There  thy  face  unclouded  see, 
Find  our  heaven  of  heavens  in  thee ! 


<%ist  %  Star. 

THE  last  sand  from  Time's  hour-glass 

Shall  soon  disappear, 
And  like  vapor  shall  vanish 

This  old-rolling  sphere. 


WHO   ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  137 

Off  the  floor,  like  the  chaff-stream 

In  the  dark,  windy  day, 
From  the  fan  of  destruction 

Shall  suns  drift  away ; 

And  the  meteors  of  glory, 

Which  wilder  the  wise, 
Only  gleam  till  we  open 

In  true  worlds  our  eyes. 

But  aloft  in  God's  heaven 

There  blazes  a  Star, 
And  I  live  whilst  I'm  watching 

Its  light  from  afar. 

From  its  lustre  immortal 

My  soul  caught  the  spark 
Which  shall  beam  on  undying 

When  the  sunshine  is  dark. 

So  transforming  its  radiance, 

Its  strength  so  benign, 
The  dull  clay  burns  a  ruby, 

And  man  grows  divine. 

To  the  zenith  ascended 

From  Joseph's  dark  tomb, 
Star  of  Jesse !  so  rivet 

My  gaze  midst  the  gloom, 
12* 


138  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

That  thy  beauty  imbibing, 
My  dross  may  refine, 

And  in  splendor  reflected 
I  burn  and  I  shine  ! 


fffcrist  %  f  tgjrt 

THERE  walk  the  saved !  yea,  they  who  bore, 
While  traversing  life's  stormy  shore, 
Through  tears  and  blood  the  hallowed  cross, 
Who,  purged  from  earth's  terrestrial  dross, 
Received  the  Saviour's  form  impressed, 
Whose  signet  on  each  hallowed  breast 
Enstamped  the  mystic  name,  unknown 
To  all  save  those  around  the  throne ; 

Who,  calm  'mid  earth's  tumultuous  strife, 
Drew  from  himself  that  inward  life 
Which  spirits  breathe,  from  sense  apart, 
While  deep  in  each  devoted  heart 
The  formless  glory  dwelt  serene, 
Of  old  in  cherub  splendor  seen ; 
Prelude  of  bliss  reserved  above, 
In  perfect  light,  for  perfect  love. 


WHO   ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  139 

Now  all  in  heaven !  no  temple  there 
Unfolds  its  gates ;  no  voice  of  prayer 
From  that  bright  multitude  ascends, 
But  holy  rapture  reverent  bends 
Before  the  mediatorial  throne, 
Before  the  Lamb,  whose  beams  alone 
Irradiate  that  eternal  sky, 
The  bursting  blaze  of  Deity ! 


Soft  is  the  voice  of  golden  lutes ; 
Sweet  bloom  heaven's  fair,  ambrosial  fruits ; 
Bright  beams  the  dazzling  lustre,  shed 
From  radiant  gems  in  order  spread, 
From  golden  streets,  from  emerald  floors, 
From  crystal  floods,  from  pearly  doors, 
From  rainbow  tints,  from  angel  wings, 
From  all  unuttered  glorious  things. 

Yet  not  that  city's  dazzling  glow, 
Nor  limpid  water's  crystal  flow, 
Nor  dulcet  harmony  that  springs 
From  golden  lyres  ;  no  angel  wings, 
Though  glittering  with  intcnsest  dyes 
Reflected  from  immortal  skies, 
Complete  the  palmy  bliss  of  those 
For  whom  heaven's  pearly  gates  unclose. 


140  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

No ;  'tis  with  unfilmed  eyes  to  see 
The  once  incarnate  Deity, 
Who  still  with  lamb-like  meekness  bears, 
Imprinted  deep,  those  glorious  scars 
Whence  issued  wide  that  crimson  flow 
In  which  their  robes  were  washed  below, 
Which  bought  that  crown  whose  splendor  bright 
Now  spheres  them  in  that  world  of  light. 

No,  'tis  not  all  that  heaven  can  show 
Of  great  or  fair  unglimpsed  below, 
Nor  converse  deep  with  spirits  high, 
Who  saw  those  volleyed  lightnings  fly 
Which  scathed  their  bright  compeers  in  bliss, 
And  hurled  them  down  to  hell's  abyss  ; 
Who  marked  creation  rise  sublime, 
And  hymned  the  early  birth  of  time  ;  — 

No,  not  with  minds  like  these  to  blend, 
And  feel  each  angel  form  a  friend, 
But  God,  their  fount,  to  know  and  see, 
From  all-pervading  Deity ; 
To  catch  the  nearer  burst  of  light ; 
To  gain  the  beatific  sight ; 
Entranced  in  glory's  peerless  blaze, 
Conformed  to  him,  on  him  to  gaze. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  141 


OH  the  delights,  the  heavenly  joys, 

The  glories  of  the  place, 
Where  Jesus  sheds  the  brightest  beams 

Of  his  overflowing  grace  ! 

Sweet  majesty  and  awful  love 

Sit  smiling  on  his  brow, 
And  all  the  glorious  ranks  above 

At  humble  distance  bow. 

Princes  to  his  imperial  name 

Bend  their  bright  sceptres  down ; 

Dominions,  thrones,  and  powers  rejoice 
To  see  him  wear  the  crown. 

Archangels  sound  his  lofty  praise 
Through  every  heavenly  street, 

And  lay  their  highest  honors  down 
Submissive  at  his  feet. 

Those  soft,  those  blessed  feet  of  his, 

That  once  rude  iron  tore, 
High  on  a  throne  of  light  they  stand 

And  all  the  saints  adore. 


142  HYMXS    ON    HEAVEN. 

His  head,  the  dear,  majestic  head, 
That  cruel  thorns  did  woimd, 

See  what  immortal  glories  shine 
And  circle  it  around ! 

This  is  the  man,  th'  exalted  man, 
Whom  we,  unseen,  adore ; 

But  when  our  eyes  behold  his  face, 
Our  hearts  shall  love  him  more. 

Lord,  how  our  souls  are  all  on  fire 
To  see  thy  blest  abode  ; 

Our  tongues  rejoice  in  tunes  of  praise 
To  our  incarnate  God  ! 

And  while  our  faith  enjoys  this  sight, 
We  long  to  leave  our  clay, 

And  with  thy  fiery  chariots,  Lord, 
To  fetch  our  souls  away ! 


FROM     THK     LATIK     OF     1'EUDEXTIUS. 

YE  whoe'er  for  Christ  are  seeking, 
Lift  your  longing  eyes  on  high ; 

There  behold  the  glory  breaking 
Of  celestial  majesty. 


WHO   ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  143 

Bright  the  vision  there  unveiling, 

With  unbounded  lustre  bright, 
High,  sublime,  and  never  failing, 

Elder  than  primeval  light. 

He  is  King  all  realms  to  gather, 

King  whom  Israel's  tribes  obey, 
Promised  to  his  people's  father, 
•  Abraham,  and  his  seed  for  aye. 

Seers  to  him  high  witness  breathing, 
Seal  their  words  with  love  and  fear ; 

Him  th'  eternal  Sire  bequeathing, 
Bids  his  own  believe  and  hear. 


JOHN  BAKEWELL. 


HAIL,  thou  once  despised  Jesus  ! 

Hail,  thou  Galilean  King  ! 
Thou  didst  suffer  to  release  us, 

Thou  didst  free  salvation  bring  ; 
Hail,  thou  agonizing  Saviour, 

Bearer  of  our  sin  and  shame  ; 
By  thy  merits  we  find  favor  ; 

Life  is  given  through  thy  name  ! 


144  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Paschal  Lamb,  by  God  appointed, 

All  our  sins  on  thee  were  laid ; 
By  almighty  love  anointed, 

Thou  hast  full  atonement  made ; 
All  thy  people  are  forgiven, 

Through  the  virtue  of  thy  blood ; 
Opened  is  the  gate  of  heaven ; 

Peace  is  made  'twixt  man  and  God* 

Jesus,  hail !  enthroned  in  glory, 

There  forever  to  abide ; 
All  the  heavenly  hosts  adore  thee, 

Seated  at  thy  Father's  side ; 
There  for  shiners  thou  art  pleading, 

There  thou  dost  our  place  prepare, 
Ever  for  us  interceding, 

Till  in  glory  we  appear. 

Worship,  honor,  power,  and  blessing, 

Thou  art  worthy  to  receive ; 
Loudest  praises,  without  ceasing, 

Meet  it  is  for  us  to  give ; 
Help,  ye  bright,  angelic  spirits ; 

Bring  your  sweetest,  noblest  lays ; 
Help  to  sing  our  Saviour's  merits, 

Help  to  chant  Inrnanuel's  praise. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  145 


BKYDOE  3, 


HEAD  of  the  hosts  in  glory ! 
We  joyfully  adore  thee, 

Thy  church  on  earth  below, 
Blending  with  those  on  high, 
Where,  through  the  azure  sky, 
Thy  saints  in  ecstasy 

Forever  glow. 

Then  raise  the  song  of  gladness, 
To  dissipate  our  sadness 

Along  this  vale  of  tears ; 
We  wend  our  weary  way 
Up  to  the  realms  of  day, 
And  watch,  and  wait,  and  pray, 

Constant  in  fears. 

Holy  apostles,  beaming 

With  radiance  brightly  streaming 

From  diadems  of  power, 
Call  on  the  awful  name, 
That  we,  through  flood  and  flame, 
The  gospel  may  proclaim 

In  every  hour. 

13 


146  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Martyrs,  whose  mystic  legions 
March  o'er  yon  heavenly  regions 
In  triumph  round  and  round, 
Wave,  wave  your  banners,  wave  ! 
For  Christ,  our  Saviour,  clave 
For  death  itself  a  grave, 

In  hell  profound. 

» 

Saints,  in  fair  circles  casting 
Rich  trophies,  everlasting 

At  Jesu's  pierced  feet, 
Amidst  our  rude  alarms 
Stretch  forth  your  conquering  arms, 
That  we,  too,  safe  from  harms, 

In  heaven  may  meet. 

Virgins,  in  bliss  transcendent, 
Whose  coronals  resplendent 

TJnwithering  bloom, 
Exalt  in  ceaseless  lays 
Him  whom  all  anthems  praise, 
And  oft  our  spirits  raise 

With  your  perfume. 

Angels,  archangels,  glorious 
Guards  of  the  church  victorious, 
Sing  to  the  Lamb  ! 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  147 

Crown  him  with  crowns  of  light, 
One  of  the  Three  by  right, 
Love,  Majesty,  and  Might, 
The  great  I  AM ! 


^jpr  <X£\      «  *» 

dbp  fjnute  0i 


HE  KEY    VAUGIIAN. 

MY  soul,  there  is  a  countrie 

Afar  beyond  the  stars, 
Where  stands  a  winged  sentrie, 

All  skilful  in  the  wars. 

There,  above  noise  and  danger, 

Sweet  peace  sits  crowned  with  smiles, 

And  One  born  in  a  manger 
Commands  the  beauteous  files. 

He  is  thy  gracious  Friend, 

And  (0  my  soul,  awake  !) 
Did  in  pure  love  descend 

To  die  here  for  thy  sake. 

If  thou  canst  get  but  thither, 
There  grows  the  flowre  of  peace 

The  rose  that  cannot  wither, 
Thy  fortresse  and  thy  ease. 


148  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Leave,  then,  thy  foolish  ranges, 
For  none  can  thee  secure 

Bat  One,  who  never  changes. 
Thy  God,  thy  Life,  thy  Cure. 


Driest,  fmmameL 


FROM     THE     GERMAN,     BY     H.    MILLS. 

OUR  Jesus,  now  at  God's  right  hand, 

Is  high  in  glory  seated  ; 
He  reigns  in  that  dear  father-land, 

From  far  with  transport  greeted, 
Whither  our  warm  affections  move, 
And  where  celestial  spirits  love 

Hun,  as  their  Lord,  to  honor. 


Above  all  principality 

His  shining  throne  he  raises ; 
The  angels'  highest  minstrelsy 

In  vain  would  reach  his  praises ; 
To  him  the  songs  of  cherubim, 
Responded  by  the  seraphim, 

Cry  "  Holy,  holy,  holy !  " 


WHO    ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  149 

All  things  are  subject  to  his  reign, 

And  earth  and  skies  together, 
What  is,  and  what  has  ever  been, 

The  upper  world  and  nether ; 
All  power  and  might  of  every  name 
Shall  own,  dear  Lord,  thy  sovereign  claim ; 

Thy  rule  is  universal. 

Thou  must,  too,  be  our  great  High  Priest, 

Thy  blood  our  souls'  oblation  ; 
None  else  can  show  our  guilt  released, 

Or  bless  us  with  salvation ; 
The  grace  we  need  none  else  can  give, 
For  none,  like  thee,  a  priest  shall  live 

To  intercede  forever. 

Bright  hopes  to  us  thy  love  affords ; 

To  faith  thou  naught  deniest ; 
Thou  reignest  now  the  Lord  of  lords, 

Above  all  kings  the  highest ; 
Thy  throne  of  righteousness  secure, 
Through  endless  ages  will  endure, 

Dispensing  grace  and  judgment. 

Immanuel,  ever  at  our  side 

Thou'lt  be,  till  time  is  ended, 
Through  all  our  pilgrimage  to  guide, 

With  power  and  mercy  blended ; 

13* 


150  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

In  every  strait  wilt  bring  us  through, 
For  us  contend,  and  conquer,  too, 
Till  Death  himself  is  vanquished ! 

Thou  say'st,  "  Him  that  shall  overcome 
None  from  my  joys  shall  sever  ; 

A  child  of  God  I'll  bring  him  home, 
To  share  my  throne  forever, 

E'en  as  I,  too,  have  victory  won, 

And  sit  upon  my  Father's  throne 
In  majesty  and  glory." 


e  l^ebtettter  anft 


MBS.    ANNE     STEELE. 


No  sun  shall  gild  the  blest  abode 

With  his  meridian  ray, 
But  the  more  radiant  throne  of  God 

Diffuse  eternal  day. 

Sorrow,  and  pain,  and  every  care, 
And  discord,  there  shall  cease, 

And  perfect  joy,  and  love  sincere, 
Adorn  the  realms  of  peace. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  151 

The  soul,  from  sin  forever  free, 

Shall  mourn  its  power  no  more, 
But,  clothed  in  spotless  purity, 

Redeeming  love  adore. 

There,  on  a  throne  how  dazzling  bright, 

Th'  exalted  Saviour  shines, 
And  beams  ineffable  delight 

On  all  the  heavenly  minds. 

There  shall  the  followers  of  the  Lamb 

Join  in  immortal  songs, 
And  endless  honors  to  his  name 

Employ  their  tuneful  tongues. 

While  sweet  reflection  calls  to  mind 

The  scenes  of  mortal  care, 
When  God,  their  God,  forever  kind, 

Was  present  to  their  prayer ; 

How  will  the  wonders  of  his  grace 

In  their  full  lustre  shine  ! 
His  wisdom,  power,  and  faithfulness, 

All-glorious,  all-divine ! 

The  Saviour,  dying,  risen,  crowned, 

Shall  swell  the  lofty  strains, 
Seraph  and  saint  his  praise  resound 

Through  all  th*  ethereal  plains. 


152  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

But  oh,  their  transports  !  oh,  their  songs ! 

What  mortal  thought  can  paint  ? 
Transcendent  glory  awes  our  tongues, 

And  all  our  notes  are  faint. 

Lord,  tune  our  hearts  to  praise  and  love, 

Our  feeble  notes  inspire, 
Till,  in  thy  blissful  courts  above, 

We  join  the  heavenly  choir. 


MARIA    J.    JEWSBtJBY. 


A  SOUND  in  yonder  glade, 

But  not  of  fount  or  breeze, 
A  sound,  but  not  of  the  whispering  made 

By  the  palm  and  the  olive  trees  ; 
It  is  not  the  minstrel's  lute, 

Nor  the  swell  of  the  night-bird's  song, 
Nor  the  city's  hum,  when  all  else  is  mute, 

By  echo  borne  along. 

'Tis  a  voice,  —  the  Saviour's  own,  — 
"  Woman,  why  weepest  thou  ?  " 

She  turns,  and  her  grief  is  forever  flown, 
And  the  shade  that  dimmed  her  brow  ; 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  153 

He  is  there,  her  risen  Lord, 

No  more  to  know  decline  ; 
He  is  there,  with  peace  in  his  every  word, 

The  wept  one,  still  divine. 


"  My  Father's  throne  to  share, 

As  King,  as  God,  I  go ; 
But  a  brother's  heart  will  be  with  me  there 

For  my  brethren  left  below." 
The  weeper  is  laid  in  dust ; 

Her  Lord  is  throned  on  high ; 
But  ours  may  be  still  that  weeper's  trust, 

And  ours  that  Lord's  reply. 

Mourner,  mid  nature's  bloom, 

Dimming  its  light  with  tears, 
And  captive,  to  whom  the  lone,  dark  room 

Grows  darker  yet  with  fears, 
And  spirit,  that,  like  a  bird, 

Rests  not  on  sea  or  shore, 
The  voice  in  the  olive-glade  once  heard, 

Hear  ye,  and  weep  no  more. 


154  SYJINS    ON   HEAVEN. 


(Sur  Jfalofo- Striker, 


JOIIX    LOGAN. 


WHERE  high  tlic  heavenly  temple  stands, 
The  house  of  God  not  made  with  hands, 
A  great  High  Priest  our  nature  wears, 
The  Guardian  of  mankind  appears. 

Though  now  ascended  up  011  high, 
He  bends  011  earth  a  brother's  eye ; 
Partaker  of  the  human  name, 
He  knows  the  frailty  of  our  frame. 

Our  Fellow-Sufferer  yet  retains 
A  fellow-feeling  of  our  pains, 
And  still  remembers,  in  the  skies, 
His  tears,  his  agonies,  and  cries. 

In  every  pang  that  rends  the  heart, 
The  Man  of  sorrows  had  a  part ; 
He  sympathizes  with  our  grief, 
And  to  the  sufferer  sends  relief. 

"With  boldness,  therefore,  at  the  throne 
Let  us  make  all  our  sorrows  known, 
And  ask  the  aid  of  heavenly  power 
To  help  us  in  an  evil  hour. 


WHO   ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  155 

gw,  &at  It*,  for  ®t. 

H. SONAR. 

YES,  for  me,  for  me  he  careth 

With  a  brother's  tender  care  ; 
Yes,  with  me,  with  me  he  shareth 

Every  burden,  every  fear. 

Yes,  o'er  me,  o'er  me  he  watcheth, 
Ceaseless  watcheth,  night  and  day ; 

Yes,  even  me,  even  me  he  snatcheth 
From  the  perils  of  the  way. 

Yes,  for  me  he  standeth  pleading 

At  the  mercy-seat  above, 
Ever  for  me  interceding, 

Constant  in  untiring  love. 

Yes,  in  me  abroad  he  sheddeth 

Joys  unearthly,  love  and  light ; 
And  to  cover  me  he  spreadeth 

His  paternal  wing  of  night. 

Yes,  in  me,  in  me  he  dwelleth, 

I  in  him,  and  he  in  me ; 
And  my  empty  soul  he  filleth, 

Here  and  through  eternity. 

Thus  I  wait  for  his  returning, 

Singing  all  the  way  to  heaven ; 
Such  the  joyful  song  of  morning, 

Such  the  tranquil  song  of  even. 


III.    HOLY  &HGELS. 


(Tbmtbim. 

FROM   THE   ITALIAN,  BY  I.  C.  WRIGHT. 

RRAYED  in  semblance  of  a  snow-white 

rose, 

That  holy  army  was  revealed  to  sight, 
Which  for  his  spouse  in  death  our  Saviour 

chose. 

But  the  winged  cherubs  that  behold  and  sing 
His  praise,  whose  chords  of  love  to  love 

invite, 

And  laud  the  goodness  of  their  heavenly  King,  — 
E'en  as  a  troop  of  bees  now  seek  the  flowers, 
And  now  return  with  their  delicious  store, 
To  lay  it  up  amid  their  waxen  bowers,  — 

On  the  vast  flower  descended  from  above, 
Whence  from  its  numerous  leaves  again  they  soar 
Back  to  the  realm  where  ever  dwells  their  Love. 
The  looks  of  all  were  bright  with  living  flame, 
With  gold  their  pinions,  and  their  forms  so  white, 

156 


WHO   ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  157 


No  snow  such  perfect  purity  could 

Fanning  their  plumage,  as  with  wing  un  tired 
From  round  to  round  they  on  the  flower  alight, 

They  impart  the  peace  and  love  they  have  acquired  ; 
Nor  by  their  rapid  passage,  as  they  fly 

Betwixt  the  Flower  and  Fountain  of  their  bliss, 
Was  aught  of  splendor  lost  unto  mine  eye  ; 

For  through  the  world  the  Ray  divine  is  sent 
Where'er  most  worthy  of  that  light  it  is, 

Nought  having  power  to  cause  impediment 
In  this  blest  realm,  where  spirits  of  ancient  days 

And  modern  meet,  in  endless  bliss  to  dwell, 
All  to  one  Point  their  sight  and  ardors  raise. 


of 


FBOH  THE  EUSSIAN  OF  KHERUVIMIJ,  BY  BOWRINQ. 

SEE  the  glorious  cherubim 

Thronging  round  the  Eternal's  throne  ; 
Hark  !  they  sing  their  holy  hymn  : 

To  the  unknown  Three  in  One, 
All-supporting  Deity, 
Living  Spirit,  praise  to  thee  ! 

*The  hymn  chanted  in  the  Russian  churches  during  the  procession  of  the  cup. 
14 


158  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Rest,  ye  irorldly  tumults,  rest ; 

Here  let  all  be  peace  and  joy  ; 
Grief  no  more  shall  rend  our  breast, 

Tears  no  more  shall  dew  our  eye. 

Heaven-directed  spirits,  rise 
To  the  temple  of  the  skies ! 

Join  the  ranks  of  angels  bright, 
Near  th'  Eternal's  dazzling  light. 
Hallelujah ! 


antr 


H.    II.    MILMAK. 

WHAT  means  yon  blaze  on  high  ? 

The  empyrean  sky, 
Like  the  rich  veil  of  some  proud  fane,  is  rending ; 

I  see  the  star-paved  land 

Where  all  the  angels  stand, 
Even  to  the  highest  height  in  burning  rows  ascending, 

Some  with  their  wings  disspread, 

And  bowed  the  stately  head, 
As  on  some  mission  of  God's  love  departing, 
Like  flames  from  midnight  conflagration  starting ; 
Behold  !  the  appointed  messengers  are  they, 
And  nearest  earth  they  wait  to  waft  our  souls  away. 


WHO    ARE    IN   HEAVEN*  159 

Higher  and  higher  still 

More  lofty  statures  fill 
The  jasper  courts  of  the  everlasting  dwelling ; 

Cherub  and  seraph  pace 

The  illimitable  space, 

While  sleep  the  folded  plumes  from,  their  white  shoul- 
ders swelling; 

From  all  the  harping  throng 

Bursts  the  tumultuous  song, 
Like  the  unceasing  sound  of  cataracts  pouring, 
Hosanna  o'er  hosanna  louder  soaring, 
That,  faintly  echoing  down  to  earthly  ears, 
Hath  seemed   the   concert   sweet  of  the   harmonious 
spheres. 

Still  my  rapt  spirit  mounts, 
And  lo !  beside  the  founts 

Of  flowing  light  Christ's  chosen  saints  reclining ; 
Distinct  among  the  blaze 
Their  palm-crowned  heads  they  raise, 
Their  white  robes  e'en  through  that  o'erpowering  lus- 
tre shining. 

Each  in  his  place  of  state, 
Long  the  bright  twelve  have  sate, 
O'er  the  celestial  Zion  high  uplifted ; 
While  those  with  deep  prophetic  raptures  gifted, 
Where  life's  glad  river  rolls  its  tideless  streams, 
Enjoy  the  full  completion  of  their  heavenly  dreams. 


160  HTJfXS    OX   HEAVEN. 

Again,  I  see  again 

The  great  victorious  train, 
The  martyr  army  from  their  toils  reposing, 

The  blood-red  robes  they  wear 

Empurpling  all  the  air, 

Even  their  immortal  limbs  the  signs  of  wounds  dis- 
closing ; 

Oh,  holy  Stephen  !  thou 

Art  there,  and  on  thy  brow 
Hast  still  the  placid  smile  it  wore  in  dying, 
When,  under  the  heaped  stones  in  anguish  lying, 
Thy  clasping  hands  were  fondly  spread  to  heaven, 
And  thy  last  accents  prayed  thy  foes  might  be  forgiven. 


Beyond,  ah  !  who  is  there 
With  the  white  snowy  hair  ? 

'Tis  He,  'tis  He,  the  Son  of  man,  appearing 
At  the  right  hand  of  One, 
The  darkness  of  whose  throne 

That  sun-eyed  host  behold  with  awe  and  fearing ; 
O'er  him  the  rainbow  springs, 
And  spreads  its  emerald  wings 

Down  to  the  glassy  sea,  his  loftiest  seat  o'erarching. 

Hark  1  thunders  from  his  throne,  like  steel-clad  armies 
marching ; 

The  Christ !  the  Christ  commands  us  to  his  home ! 

Jesus,  Redeemer,  Lord,  we  come,  we  come,  we  come ! 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  161 


YE  angels,  praise  the  Lord ; 
His  wondrous  works  proclaim, 

At  whose  creating  word 
You  into  being  came. 
Endowed  with  strength  and  holiness, 
In  realms  of  everlasting  bliss, 

Where  glory  makes  the  day, 
'Tis  yours  a  higher  bliss  to  know, 
The  Source  from  whence  your  blessings  flow, 

And  his  commands  obey. 

Ye  heard  the  voice  that  bade 
Creation  spring  to  light ; 

Creation  rose,  displayed 
In  majesty  of  might. 
Unnumbered  worlds  in  order  stood ; 
God  saw  the  work,  pronounced  it  good, 

While  all  your  hosts  adored  ; 
Their  living  harps,  to  praise  were  strung, 
The  heavens  with  hallelujahs  rung 

To  the  Creator,  Lord. 

A  higher  theme  of  praise, 
A  brighter  Sun  has  beamed ; 

The  subject  of  your  lays  — 
A  dying  world  redeemed ; 

14* 


162  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

"  Glory  to  God !  "  was  then  your  song ; 
Redemption  will  the  strain  prolong 

Through  all  eternity ; 
Creation's  theme  may  die  away 
Like  stars  before  the  morning  ray, 

But  this  can  never  die. 

Your  portion  is  increase 

Of  love,  and  bliss,  and  praise ; 

The  works  of  God  ne'er  cease 

His  attributes  to  raise. 
Oh  height  of  praise  in  heaven  above, 
When  all  the  mighty  plan  of  love 

Accomplished  shall  appear ; 
When,  crowned  by  her  Messiah's  side, 
The  church,  his  purchased,  spotless  bride, 

Shall  all  your  blessings  share ! 


Mai  ting  tipcrn 


EDMUND     SPEXSKE. 


ANGELS  bright, 
All  glistening  glorious  in  their  Maker's  light ;  — 

To  them  the  heaven's  illimitable  hight 

(Xot  this  round  heaven  which  we  from  hence  behold, 
Adorned  with  thousand  lamps  of  burning  light, 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN*  163 

And  with  ten  thousand  gemmes  of  shyning  gold) 

He  gave  as  their  inheritance  to  hold, 
That  they  might  serve  him  in  eternall  blis, 
And  be  partakers  of  those  ioys  of  his. 

There  they  in  their  trinall  triplicities 
About  him  wait,  and  on  his  will  depend, 

Either  with  nimble  wings  to  cut  the  skies, 
When  he  them  on  his  messages  doth  send, 
Or  on  his  owne  dread  presence  to  attend, 

Where  they  behold  the  glorie  of  his  light, 

And  caroll  hymnes  of  love  both  day  and  night. 

Both  day  and  night  is  unto  them  all  one ; 
For  he  his  beames  doth  unto  them  extend, 

That  darknesse  there  appeareth  never  none ; 
Ne  hath  their  day,  ne  hath  their  blisse  an  end, 
But  there  their  termelesse  time  in  pleasure  spend  ; 

Ne  ever  should  their  happinessc  decay, 

Had  not  they  dar'd  their  Lord  to  disobay. 


BETDOE^. 


BRIGHT  cherubim  and  seraphim, 
In  one  mysterious  crowd, 

Expand  the  everlasting  hymn 
That  rolls  from  cloud  to  cloud. 


164  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Odors,  in  folds  of  fragrant  fumes, 
Pervade  the  ravished  skies, 

Whilst  angels  form,  with  arching  plumes, 
A  firmament  of  eyes. 

They  gaze,  and  as  they  gaze  they  shine, 
And  as  they  shine  admire, 

With  adoration  all  divine, 
All  love,  all  life,  all  fire. 

No  temple  there  is  made  with  hands, 
By  human  priesthood  trod  ; 

Alone  the  once-slain  Victim  stands, 
The  living  Lamb  of  God. 


SKitmsses  far 


PHILIP     DODDIII  DOE. 


0  YE  immortal  throng 

Of  angels  round  the  throne, 
Join  with  our  feeble  song 
To  make  the  Saviour  known  ; 
On  earth  ye  knew 
His  wondrous  grace  ; 
His  beauteous  face 
In  heaven  ye  view. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  165 

Ye  saw  the  heaven-born  child 

In  human  flesh  arrayed, 
Benevolent  and  mild, 

While  in  the  manger  laid ; 
And  praise  to  God, 
And  peace  on  earth, 
For  such  a  birth 
Proclaimed  aloud. 


Ye  in  the  wilderness 

Beheld  the  tempter  spoiled, 
Well  known  in  every  dress, 
In  every  combat  foiled, 
And  joyed  to  crown 
The  Victor's  head 
When  Satan  fled 
Before  his  frown. 


Around  the  bloody  tree 

Ye  pressed  with  strong  desire 
That  wondrous  sight  to  see, 
The  Lord  of  life  expire ; 
And,  could  your  eyes 
Have  known  a  tear, 
Had  dropped  it  there 
In  sad  surprise. 


166  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Around  his  sacred  tomb 

A  willing  watch  ye  keep, 
Till  the  blest  moment  come 
To  rouse  him  from  his  sleep ; 
Then  rolled  the  stone, 
And  all  adored 
Your  rising  Lord 
With  joy  unknown. 


When  all  arrayed  in  light 

The  shining  Conqueror  rode, 
Ye  hailed  his  rapturous  flight 
Up  to  the  throne  of  God, 
And  waved  around 
Your  golden  wings, 
And  struck  your  strings 
Of  sweetest  sound. 


The  warbling  notes  pursue, 

And  louder  anthems  raise, 
While  mortals  sing  with  you 
Their  own  Redeemer's  praise ; 
And  thou,  my  heart, 
With  equal  flame, 
And  joy  the  same, 
Perform  thy  part. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN*  167 


% 


BEYOND  the  glittering  starry  skies, 

Far  as  the  eternal  hills, 
Yon  heaven  of  heavens  with  living  light 

Our  great  Redeemer  fills. 

Legions  of  angels,  strong  and  fair, 

In  countless  armies  shine, 
And  swell  his  praise  with  golden  harps, 

Attuned  to  songs  divine. 

"  Hail,  Prince,"  they  cry,  "  forever  hail, 

Whose  unexampled  love 
Moved  thee  to  quit  those  glorious  realms 

And  royalties  above  !  " 

While  he  did  condescend  on  earth 

To  suffer  grief  and  pain, 
They  cast  their  honors  at  his  feet, 

And  waited  in  his  trajn. 

They  saw  his  heart,  transfixed  with  wounds, 

With  love  and  grief  run  o'er  ; 
They  saw  him  break  the  bars  of  death 

Which  none  e'er  brake  before. 


168  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

They  brought  his  chariot  from  above 

To  bear  him  to  his  throne, 
Clapped  their  triumphant  wings,  and  cried, 

"  The  glorious  work  is  done ! " 


LEIGH     RICHMOND. 


HARK  !  how  the  angels,  as  they  fly, 
Sing  through  the  regions  of  the  sky, 
Bearing  an  infant  in  their  arms, 
Securely  freed  from  sin's  alarms. 

"  Welcome,  dear  babe,  to  Jesus'  breast, 
Forever  there  in  joy  to  rest ; 
Welcome  to  Jesus'  courts  above, 
To  sing  thy  great  Redeemer's  love. 

"  We  left  the  heavens  and  flew  to  earth 
To  watch  thee  at  thy  mortal  birth  ; 
Obedient  to  thy  Saviour's  will, 
We  stayed  to  Ibve  and  guard  thee  still. 

"  We,  thy  protecting  angels,  came 
To  see  thee  blessed  in  Jesus'  name ; 
When  the  baptismal  seal  was  given, 
To  mark  thee,  child,  an  heir  of  heaven. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  169 

"  When  the  resistless  call  of  death 
Bade  thee  resign  thy  infant  breath, 
When  parents  wept,  and  thou  didst  smile, 
We  were  thy  guardians  all  the  while. 

"  Now  with  the  lightning's  speed  we  bear 
The  child  committed  to  our  care ; 
With  anthems,  such  as  angels  sing, 
We  fly  to  bear  thee  to  our  King." 

Thus,  sweetly  borne,  he  flies  to  rest ; 
We  know  'tis  well,  nay,  more,  'tis  best ; 
When  we  our  pilgrim's  path  have  trod, 
Oh,  may  we  find  him  with  our  God ! 

15 


IY.    S&INTS  GLORIFIED. 


c  f£sn80m&  .of  % 


GILES     FLETCHER. 

ERE  may  the  band  that  now  in  triumph 

shines, 
And    that,  before   they   were    invested 

thus, 

In  earthly  bodies  carried  heavenly  minds, 
Pitch  round  about,  in  order  glorious, 
Their  sunny  tents  and  houses  luminous, 
All  their  eternal  day  in  songs  employing, 
Joying  their  end,  without  end  of  their  joying, 
While  their  Almighty  Prince  destruction  is  destroying. 

Their  sight  drinks  lovely  fire  in  at  their  eyes ; 

Their  breath  sweet  incense  with  fine  breath  accloys, 

That  on  God's  sweating  altar  burning  lies ; 
Their  hungry  ears  feed  011  the  heavenly  noise 
That  angels  sing  to  tell  their  untold  joys ; 

Their  understanding,  naked  truth,  their  wills 

The  all  and  self-sufficient  goodness  fills, 

That  nothing  here  is  wanting  but  the  want  of  ills. 

170 


WHO    ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  171 

No  sorrow  now  hangs  clouding  on  their  brow ; 

No  bloodless  malady  empales  their  face ; 
No  age  drops  on  their  hairs  his  silver  snow ; 

No  nakedness  their  bodies  doth  embase ; 

No  poverty  themselves  and  theirs  disgrace ; 
No  fear  of  death  the  joy  of  life  devours ; 
No  unchaste  sleep  their  precious  time  deflowers ; 
No  loss,  no  grief,  no  change,  wait  on  their  winged 
hours. 

But  now  their  naked  bodies  scorn  the  cold, 

And  from  their  eyes  joy  looks  and  laughs  at  pain ; 

The  infant  wonders  how  he  came  so  old, 
The  old  man  how  he  came  so  young  again ; 
Still  resting,  though  from  sleep  they  still  refrain ; 

Where  all  are  rich,  and  yet  no  gold  they  owe ; 

And  all  are  kings,  and  yet  no  subjects  know ; 

All  full,  and  yet  no  time  they  do  on  food  bestow. 

About  the  holy  city  rolls  a  flood 

Of  molten  crystal,  like  a  sea  of  glass, 
On  which  weak  stream  a  strong  foundation  stood ; 
Of  living  diamonds  the  building  was, 
That  all  things  else,  besides  itself,  did  pass ; 
Her  streets,  instead  of  stones,  the  stars  did  pave, 
And  little  pearls  for  dust  it  seemed  to  have, 
On  which  soft-streaming  manna  like  pure  snow  did 
wave. 


172  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

It  is,no  flaming  lustre,  made  of  light, 

No  sweet  consent,  or  well-tuned  harmony, 
Ambrosia,  for  to  feast  the  appetite, 
Or  flowery  odor  mixed  with  spicery, 
No  soft  embrace,  or  pleasure  bodily ; 
And  yet  it  is  a  kind  of  inward  feast, 
A  harmony  that  sounds  within  the  breast, 
An  odor,  light,  embrace,  in  which  the  soul  doth  rest. 


A  heavenly  feast  no  hunger  can  consume, 
A  light  unseen,  yet  shines  in  every  place, 

A  sound  no  time  can  steal,  a  sweet  perfume 
No  winds  can  scatter,  an  entire  embrace 
That  no  satiety  can  e'er  unlace ; 

Ingraced  into  so  high  a  favor  there, 

The  saints  with  their  beau-peers  whole  worlds  outwear. 

And  things  unseen  do  see,  and  things  unheard  do  hear. 


Ye  blessed  souls,  grown  richer  by  your  spoil, 

Whose  loss,  though  great,  is  cause  of  greater  gains ; 
Here  may  your  wearied  spirits  rest  from  toil, 
Spending  your  endless  evening  that  remains 
Among  those  white  flocks  and  celestial  trains 
That  feed  upon  their  Shepherd's  eyes,  and  frame 
That  heavenly  music  of  so  wondrous  fame, 
Psalming  aloud  the  holy  honors  of  his  name. 


WHO   ARE   IN    HEAVEN"?  173 


0f 


CHARLES     WESLEY. 

YE  happy  souls,  no  longer  tossed 
Like  us  on  life's  tempestuous  sea, 

Who  cannot  now  be  shipwrecked,  lost, 
Safe  landed  in  eternity, 

Are  mortals  banished  from  your  mind  ? 

Or  think  ye  of  your  friends  behind  ? 

"Tis  Jesus  bids  us  keep  in  view 

Your  active  faith  and  patient  hope  ; 

As  ye  your  Lord,  we  follow  you, 
And  wait  for  him  to  take  us  up, 

Our  closest  fellowship  t*  improve, 

/3ur  fellowship  with  saints  above. 

Till  then  we  hold  your  memory  dear, 
Which  now  relieves  our  drooping  heart ; 

Like  us  ye  mourned  and  suffered  here ; 
Like  us  ye  languished  to  depart, 

And  labored  on  with  painful  strife, 

And  dragged  the  heavy  load  of  life. 

But  oh !  your  evil  day  is  past ; 

Accomplished  is  your  warfare  here ; 
And  more  'than  conquerors  at  last, 

Our  sad,  desponding  hearts  ye  cheer ; 

15* 


174  BY^lfNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Ye  bid  us  still  your  steps  pursue, 
And  we  shall  more  than  conquer  too. 

Encompassed  with  so  great  a  cloud 
Of  witnesses,  who  speak,  though  dead, 

We  cast  aside  our  every  load, 

And  follow  where  our  Lord  hath  led ; 

With  patience  run  the  appointed  race, 

And  die  to  see  his  glorious  face. 


(ffmaitripatttr. 

FBOM  THE  GEEMAX  OF  DACIt,  BT  I.  O  S  G  F  E  L  L  O  W. 

OH  how  hlest  are  ye  whose  toils  are  ended, 
Who  through  death  have  unto  God  ascended ! 

Ye  have  arisen 
From  the  cares  which  keep  us  still  in  prison. 

We  are  still  as  in  a  dungeon  living, 

Still  oppressed  with  sorrow  and  misgiving ; 

Our  undertakings 
Are  but  toils,  and  troubles,  and  heart-breakings. 

Ye  meanwhile  are  in  your  chambers  sleeping, 
Quiet,  and  set  free  from  all  our  weeping ; 

No  cross  nor  trial 
Hinders  your  enjoyments  with  denial. 


WHO    ARE   IN   HEAVEN*  175 

Christ  has  wiped  away  your  tears  forever ; 
Ye  have  that  for  which  we  still  endeavor ; 

To  you  are  chanted 
Songs  which  no  mortal  ear  ever  haunted. 

Ah !  who  would  not,  then,  depart  with  gladness, 
To  inherit  heaven  for  earthly  sadness  ? 

Who  here  would  languish 
Longer  in  bewailing  and  in  anguish  ? 

Come,  0  Christ,  and  loose  the  chains  that  bind  us  ; 
Lead  us  forth,  and  cast  this  world  behind  us ; 

With  thee,  the  Anointed, 
Finds  the  soul  its  joy  and  rest  appointed. 


Celestial 


THOMAS     B.    BEAD. 


I  STOOD  by  the  open  casement 
And  looked  upon  the  night, 

And  saw  the  westward  going  stars 
Pass  slowly  out  of  sight. 

Slowly  the  bright  procession 
Went  down  the  gleaming  arch, 

And  my  soul  discerned  the  music 
Of  their  long,  triumphal  march  ; 


II  Y  J/  .V  S    0  N    HE  A  VE  A" . 

Till  the  great  celestial  army. 
Stretching  far  beyond  the  poles, 

Became  the  eternal  symbol 
Of  the  mighty  march  of  souls. 

Onward,  forever  onward, 

Red  Mars  led  down  his  clan  ; 
And  the  moon,  like  a  mailed  maiden 

Was  riding  in  the  van. 

And  some  were  bright  in  beauty, 
And  some  were  faint  and  small ; 

But  these  might  be  in  their  greatest  height 
The  noblest  of  them  all. 

Downward,  forever  downward, 

Behind  Earth's  dusky  shore, 
They  passed  into  the  unknown  night,  — 

They  passed,  and  ivere  no  more. 

No  more  ?     Oh,  say  not  so  ! 

And  downward  is  not  just ; 
For  the  sight  is  weak  and  the  sense  is  dim 

That  looks  through  heated  dust. 

The  stars  and  the  mailed  moon, 
Though  they  seem  to  fall  and  die, 

Still  sweep  with  their  embattled  lines 
An  endless  reach  of  sky. 


WHO    ARE    IN    HEAVEN?  Ill 

And  though  the  hills  of  death 

May  hide  the  bright  array, 
The  marshalled  brotherhood  of  souls 

Still  keeps  its  upward  way; 

Upward,  forever  upward, 

I  see  their  march  sublime, 
And  hear  the  glorious  music 

Of  the  conquerors  of  Time. 

And  long  let  me  remember 

That  the  palest,  faintest  one, 
May  to  diviner  vision  be 

A  bright  and  blessed  sun. 


J.  MONTGOMERY. 


PALMS  of  glory,  raiment  bright, 
Crowns  that  never  fade  away, 

Gird  and  deck  the  saints  in  light  ; 

Priests,  and  kings,  and  conquerors  they. 

Yet  the  conquerors  bring  their  palms 
To  the  Lamb  amidst  the  throne, 

And  proclaim,  in  joyful  psalms, 
Victory  through  His  cross  alone. 


178  IIYMXS    ON    11EAVES. 

* 

Kings  for  harps  their  crowns  resign, 
Crying,  as  they  strike  the  chords, 

"  Take  the  kingdom,  it  is  thine, 

King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords ! " 

Round  the  altar  priests  confess, 
If  their  robes  are  white  as  snow, 

'Twas  the  Saviour's  righteousness, 
And  his  blood,  that  made  them  so. 

Who  were  these  ?     On  earth  they  dwelt, 
Sinners  once  of  Adam's  race ; 

Guilt,  and  fear,  and  suffering  felt, 
But  were  saved  by  sovereign  grace. 

They  were  mortal,  too,  like  us ; 

Ah !  when  we  like  them  must  die, 
May  our  souls,  translated  thus, 

Triumph,  reign,  and  shine  on  high ! 


arc 

3TROM     THE     G  E  R  M  A  X     OF     SCHEME,    BY    MISS    WIXKWOKTU, 

WHO  are  those  before  God's  throne, 
What  the  crowned  host  I  see  ? 

As  the  sky,  with  stars  thick-strown, 
Is  their  shining  company  ; 

Hallelujahs,  hark,  they  sing ; 

Solemn  praise  to  God  they  bring. 


WHO    A  HE    IN   HEAVEN?  179 

Who  are  those  that  in  their  hands 

Bear  aloft  the  conqueror's  palm, 
As  one  o'er  his  foeman  stands, 

Fallen  beneath  his  mighty  arm  ? 
What  the  war  and  what  the  strife  ? 
Whence  came  such  victorious  life  ? 

Who  are  those  arrayed  in  light, 

Clothed  in  righteousness  divine, 
Wearing  robes  most  pure  and  white, 

That  unstained  shall  ever  shine, 
That  can  never  more  decay  ? 
Whence  came  all  this  bright  array  ? 

They  are  those  who,  strong  in  faith, 

Battled  for  the  mighty  God ; 
Conquerors  o'er  the  world  and  death, 

Following  not  sin's  crowded  road ; 
Through  the  Lamb  who  once  was  slain, 
Did  they  such  high  victory  gain. 

They  are  those  who  much  have  borne, 

Trial,  sorrow,  pain,  and  care, 
Who  have  wrestled  night  and  morn 

With  the  mighty  God  in  prayer ; 
Now  their  strife  hath  found  its  close ; 
God  hath  turned  away  their  woes. 


180  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

They  are  branches  of  that  Stem 
"Who  hath  our  salvation  been ; 

In  the  blood  He  shed  for  them 

Have  they  made  their  raiment  clean ; 

Hence  they  wear  such  radiant  dress, 

Clad  in  spotless  holiness. 

They  are  those  who  hourly  here 
Served  as  priests  before  their  Lord, 

Offering  up,  with  gladsome  cheer, 
Soul  and  body  at  his  word : 

Now,  within  the  holy  place, 

They  behold  Mm  face  to  face. 

As  the  harts  at  noonday  pant 
For  the  river  fresh  and  clear, 

Did  their  souls  oft  long  and  faint 
For  the  living  Fountain  here ; 

Now  their  thirst  is  quenched ;  they  dwell 

With  the  Lord  they  loved  so  well. 

Thitherwards  I  stretch  my  hands  ; 

0  Lord  Jesus,  day  by  day, 
In  thy  house  in  these  strange  lands, 

Compassed  round  with  foes,  I  pray, 
Let  me  sink  not  in  the  war ; 
Drive  for  me  my  foes  afar. 


WHO    ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  181 

Cast  my  lot  in  earth  and  heaven 
With  thy  saints,  made  like  to  thee  ; 

Let  my  bonds  be  also  riven ; 

Make  thy  child,  who  loves  thee,  free ; 

Near  the  throne  where  thou  dost  shine, 

May  a  place  at  last  be  mine. 

Ah !  that  bliss  can  ne'er  be  told, 
When,  with  all  that  army  bright, 

Thee,  my  Sun,  I  shall  behold, 
Shining,  star-like,  with  thy  light ! 

Amen !  thanks  be  brought  to  thee, 

Praise  through  all  eternity ! 


fmt  partirr. 

TEN  thousand  times  ten  thousand  sung 

Loud  anthems  round  the  throne, 
When,  lo  !  one  solitary  tongue 

Began  a  song  unknown,  — 
A  song  unknown  to  angel  ears, 
A  song  that  told  of  banished  fears, 
Of  pardoned  sins  and  dried-up  tears. 

Not  one  of  all  the  heavenly  host 
Could  these  high  notes  attain; 

But  spirits  from  a  distant  coast 
United  in  the  strain, 

16 


182  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Till  ho  who  first  began  the  song, 
To  sing  alone  not  suffered  long, 
Was  mingled  with  a  countless  throng. 

And  still,  as  hours  are  fleeting  by, 

The  angels  ever  bear 
Some  newly-ransomed  soul  on  high, 

To  join  the  chorus  there  ; 
And  so  the  song  will  louder  grow, 
Till  all,  redeemed  by  Christ  below, 
To  that  fair  world  of  rapture  go. 

Oh  give  me,  Lord,  my  golden  harp, 

And  tune  my  broken  voice, 
That  I  may  sing  of  troubles  sharp 

Exchanged  for  endless  joys ; 
The  song  that  ne'er  was  heard  before, 
A  sinner  reached  the  heavenly  shore, 
But  now  shall  sound  for  evermore. 


ampwiTS  0f 

n .  n .  M  1 1.  M  A  *  . 

SING  to  the  Lord !  let  harp,  and  lute,  and  voice, 
Up  to  the  expanding  gates  of  heaven  rejoice, 

While  the  bright  martyrs  to  their  rest  are  borne ; 


WHO    ARE   IN   HEAVEN*  183 

Sing  to  the  Lord !  their  blood-stained  course  is  run, 
And  every  head  its  diadem  hath  won, 

Rich  as  the  purple  of  the  summer  morn ; 
Sing  the  triumphant  champions  of  their  God, 
While  burn  their  mounting  feet  along  their  skyward 
road. 

Sing  to  the  Lord !  for  in  her  beauty's  prime 
Snatched  from  this  wintry  earth's  ungenial  clime, 

In  the  eternal  spring  of  Paradise  to  bloom ; 
For  her  the  world  displayed  its  brightest  treasure, 
And  the  airs  panted  with  the  songs  of  pleasure ; 

Before  earth's  throne  she  chose  the  lowly  tomb, 
The  vale  of  tears  with  willing  footsteps  trod, 
Bearing  her  cross  with  thee,  incarnate  Son  of  God ! 

Sing  to  the  Lord !  it  is  not  shed  in  vain,  — 
The  blood  of  martyrs ;  from  its  refreshing  rain 

High  springs  the  church,  like  some  fount-shadowing 

palm; 

The  nations  crowd  beneath  its  branching  shade ; 
Of  its  green  leaves  are  kingly  diadems  made, 

And  wrapt  within  its  deep  embosoming  calm, 
Earth  sinks  to  slumber  like  the  breezeless  deep, 
And  war's  tempestuous  vultures  fold  their  wings  and 
sleep. 

Sing  to  the  Lord !  when  time  itself  shall  cease, 
And  final  ruin's  desolating  peace 


184  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Enwrap  this  wild  and  restless  world  of  man, 
When  the  Judge  rides  upon  the  enthroning  wind, 
And  o'er  all  generations  of  mankind 

Eternal  Justice  waves  its  winnowing  fan, 
To  vast  infinity's  remotest  space, 
While  ages  run  their  everlasting  race, 
Shall  all  the  beatific  hosts  prolong, 
Wide  as  the  glory  of  the  Lamb,  the  Lamb's  triumphant 
song! 


Y.    OUR  S&IHTED  FRIENDS. 


Jfrimirs, 


HENBV     ALFOED. 


,  and  another,  pass  they  and  are  gone, 
Our  early  friends.     Like  minute-bells  of 

heaven, 

Across  our  path  in  fitful  wailings  driven, 
Hear  we  death's  tidings  ever  and  anon. 
A  little  longer,  and  we  stand  alone  ; 

A  few  more  strokes  of  the  Almighty  rod, 
And  the  dread  presence  of  the  voice  of  God 
About  our  footsteps  shall  be  heard  and  known. 
Toil  on,  toil  on,  thou  weary,  weary  arm  ; 
Hope  ever  onward,  heavy-laden  heart  ; 
Let  the  false  charmer  ne'er  so  wisely  charm  ; 

Listen  we  not,  but  ply  our  task  apart, 
Cheering  each  hour  of  work  with  thoughts  of  rest, 
And  with  their  love  who  labored  and  are  blest. 

16*  185 


186  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


(Dur 


CHABLES     WESLET. 


WEEP  not  for  a  brother  deceased  ; 

Our  loss  is  his  infinite  gain  ; 
A  soul  out  of  prison  released, 

And  freed  from  its  bodily  chain  ; 
With  songs  let  us  follow  his  flight, 

And  mount  with  his  spirit  above, 
Escaped  to  the  mansions  of  light, 

And  lodged  hi  the  Eden  of  love. 

Our  brother  the  haven  hath  gained, 

Out-flying  the  tempest  and  wind  ; 
His  rest  he  hath  sooner  obtained, 

And  left  his  companions  behind, 
Still  tossed  on  a  sea  of  distress, 

Hard  toiling  to  make  the  blest  shore, 
Where  all  is  assurance  and  peace, 

And  sorrow  and  sin  are  no  more. 

There  all  the  ship's  company  meet 

Who  sailed  with  the  Saviour  beneath  ; 
With  shouting  each  other  they  greet, 

And  triumph  o'er  sorrow  and  death  ; 
The  voyage  of  life's  at  an  end  ; 

The  mortal  affliction  is  past  ; 
The  age  that  in  heaven  they  spend, 

Forever  and  ever  shall  last. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVENS  187 


Jtminrttr. 


J.  MONTGOMERY. 


THE  broken  ties  of  happier  days, 

How  often  do  they  seem 
To  come  before  our  mental  gaze, 

Like  a  remembered  dream  ! 
Around  us  each  dissevered  chain 

In  sparkling  ruin  lies, 
And  earthly  hand  can  ne'er  again 

Unite  those  broken  ties. 

The  parents  of  our  youthful  home, 

The  kindred  that  we  loved, 
Far  from  our  arms  perchance  may  roam, 

To  desert  seas  removed  ; 
Or  we  have  watched  their  parting  breath, 

And  closed  their  weary  eyes, 
And  sighed  to  think  how  sadly  death 

Can  sever  human  ties. 

The  friends,  the  loved  ones  of  our  youth, 

They,  too,  are  gone  or  changed  ; 
Or,  worse  than  all,  their  love  and  truth 

Are  darkened  or  estranged  ; 
They  meet  us  in  the  glittering  throng 

With  cold,  averted  eyes, 
And  wonder  that  we  weep  their  wrong, 

And  mourn  our  broken  ties. 


188  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Oh  who,  in  such  a  world  as  this, 

Could  bear  their  lot  of  pain, 
Did  not  one  radiant  hope  of  bliss 

Unclouded  yet  remain  ? 
That  hope  the  sovereign  Lord  has  given 

Who  reigns  above  the  skies, 
Hope  that  unites  our  souls  to  heaven 

By  faith's  enduring  ties. 

Each  care,  each  ill  of  mortal  birth, 

Is  sent  in  pitying  love, 
To  lift  the  lingering  heart  from  earth, 

And  speed  its  flight  above ; 
And  every  pang  that  wrings  the  breast, 

And  every  joy  that  dies, 
Tells  us  to  seek  a  purer  rest, 

And  trust  to  holier  ties. 


(Ditr  Jfrimfr, 


ANDREWS   NORTON. 


HE  has  gone  to  his  God,  he  has  gone  to  his  home, 
No  more  amid  peril  and  error  to  roam ; 
His  eyes  are  no  longer  dim ; 

His  feet  will  no  more  falter ; 
No  grief  can  follow  him ; 
No  pang  his  cheek  can  alter. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  189 

There  are  paleness,  and  weeping,  and  sighs  below, 
For  our  faith  is  faint,  and  our  tears  will  flow ; 
But  the  harps  of  heaven  are  ringing, 

Glad  angels  come  to  greet  him, . 
And  hymns  of  joy  are  singing, 

While  old  friends  press  to  meet  him. 

0  honored,  beloved,  to  earth  unconfined, 
Thou  hast  soared  on  high,  thou  hast  left  us  behind ; 
But  our  parting  is  not  forever ; 

We  will  follow  thee  .by  heaven's  light, 
Where  the  grave  cannot  dissever 
The  souls  whom  God  will  unite. 


Jfrimir 


DK.    HUIE. 


OH  think  that,  while  you're  weeping  here, 

His  hand  a  golden  harp  is  stringing ; 
And,  with  a  voice  serene  and  clear, 
His  ransomed  soul,  without  a  tear, 
His  Saviour's  praise  is  singing ! 

And  think  that  all  his  pains  are  fled, 

His  toils  and  sorrows  closed  forever, 
While  He,  whose  blood  for  man  was  shed, 
Has  placed  upon  his  servant's  head 
A  crown  that  fadeth  never. 


190  IIYXXS    OX   UEAVLX. 

And  think  that,  in  that  awful  day, 

When  darkness  sun  and  moon  is  shading, 
The  form  that  midst  its  kindred  clay 
Your,  trembling  hands  prepare  to  lay, 
Shall  rise  to  life  unfading ! 

Then  weep  no  more  for  him  who's  gone 

Where  sin  and  suffering  ne'er  shall  enter; 
But  on  that  great  High  Priest  alone, 
Who  can  for  guilt  like  ours  atone, 
Your  own  affections  centre. 


For  thus,  while  round  your  lowly  bier 
Surviving  friends  are  sadly  bending, 
Your  souls,  like  his,  to  Jesus  dear, 
Shall  wing  then-  flight  to  yonder  sphere, 
Faith  lightest  pinions  lending. 

And  thus,  when  to  the  silent  tomb 

Your  lifeless  dust  like  his  is  given, 
Like  faith  shall  whisper,  midst  the  gloom, 
That  yet  again,  in  youthful  bloom, 
That  dust  shall  smile  in  heaven. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  191 


C.  E.  KOEEKTS. 


"  Is  this  her  home  ?  " 

I  ask,  in  earnest  tone. 

All  that  make  home  are  here,  — 

Husband,  and  children  dear, 
And  kindred  hearts,  which  ever  seem  to  be 
Full  of  kind  love  and  gentle  sympathy ; 

But  desolate  they  stand, 

That  little  household  band ; 

Most  mournful  is  the  crying 

I  hear,  in  sad  replying 

Unto  my  earnest  tone, 

"  Is  this  her  home  ?  " 

"  Is  this  her  home  ? " 

I  ask,  in  earnest  tone. 

The  new-laid  turf  is  green, 

And  the  sweet  flowers,  I  ween, 
Will  love  to  come  and  deck  the  lowly  bed, 
Where  in  calm  slumbers  rests  that  youthful  head. 

The  wild  bird's  song  is  here, 

The  sunshine  bright  and  clear ; 

0  peace !  she's  sweetly  sleeping, 

While  we  the  watch  are  keeping ; 

Why  answer  still  with  weeping 

Unto  my  earnest  tone, 

"  Is  this  her  home  ?  " 


• 

192  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

"  Is  this  her  home  ?  " 

I  ask,  in  solemn  tone. 

Behold,  the  Lord  is  here ; 

The  Lamb  of  God  is  near, 
To  lead  her  into  pastures  ever  fair, 
And  point  her  to  the  living  waters  there ; 

See !  robed  in  light  she  stands 

Amid  the  angel  bands ; 

Her  hand  a  harp  is  stringing ; 

Its  notes  through  heaven  are  ringing ; 

Oh,  list !  the  song  she's  singing, 

Most  joyful  is  the  tone, 

"  Heaven  is  my  home." 


is  mg  Jfrimfr? 


UBS.    ANNA     L.    BARBACLD. 

PURE  spirit !  Oh  where  art  thou  now  ? 

Oh  whisper  to  my  soul ! 
Oh  let  some  soothing  thought  of  thee 

This  bitter  grief  control ! 

'Tis  not  for  thee  the  tears  I  shed ; 

Thy  sufferings  now  are  o'er ; 
The  sea  is  calm,  the  tempest  past, 

On  that  eternal  shore. 


WHO    ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  193 

No  more  the  storms  that  wreck  thy  peace 

Shall  tear  that  gentle  breast, 
Nor  summer's  rage,  nor  winter's  cold, 

Thy  poor,  poor  frame  molest. 

Thy  peace  is  sealed,  thy  rest  is  sure ; 

My  sorrows  are  to  come ; 
Awhile  I  weep  and  linger  here, 

Then  follow  to  the  tomb. 

And  is  the  awful  veil  withdrawn 

That  shrouds  from  mortal  eyes, 
In  deep,  impenetrable  gloom, 

The  secrets  of  the  skies  ? 

Oh,  in  some  dream  of  visioned  bliss, 

Some  trance  of  rapture,  show 
Where,  on  the  bosom  of  thy  God, 

Thou  rest'st  from  human  woe  ! 

Thence  may  thy  pure  devotion's  flame 

On  me,  on  rne  descend ; 
To  me  thy  strong,  aspiring  hopes, 

Thy  faith,  thy  fervors,  lend. 

Let  these  my  lonely  path  illume, 

And  teach  my  weakened  mind 
To  welcome  all  that's  left  of  good, 

To  all  that's  lost  resigned. 

17 


194  HYlfNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Farewell !  with  honor,  peace,  and  love, 
Be  thy  dear  memory  blest ! 

Thou  hast  no  tears  for  me  to  shed, 
When  I,  too,  am  at  rest. 


0  §*Ihteir  antr  f 


JOHX    MILTOS. 

WHEN  Faith  and  Love,  which  parted  from  thee  never, 

Had  ripened  thy  just  soul  to  dwell  with  God, 

Meekly  thou  didst  resign  this  earthly  load 
Of  death,  called  life,  which  us  from  life  doth  sever. 
Thy  works,  and  alms,  and  all  thy  good  endeavor, 

Staid  not  behind,  nor  in  the  grave  were  trod ; 

But,  as  Faith  pointed  with  her  golden  rod, 
Followed  thee  up  to  joy  and  bliss  forever. 
Love  led  ihem  on,  and  Faith,  who  knew  them  best, 

Thy  handmaids,  clad  them  o'er  with  purple  beams 
And  azure  wings,  that  up  they  flew  so  drest, 

And  spake  the  truth  of  thee  on  glorious  themes 
Before  the  Judge,  who  henceforth  bade  thee  rest, 

And  drink  thy  fill  of  pure  immortal  streams. 


WHO   ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  195 


Sjxe  is  in  |f  *abm. 

CHABLOTTE     ELLIOTT. 

SHE  is  in  heaven !     That  thought  alone 

Should  chase  the  grief  which  clouds  thy  brow 

'Twas  said,  from  her  Redeemer's  throne, 
"  Into  my  joy  now  enter  thou ! " 

She  is  in  heaven.     How  sweet  the  phrase ! 

Yet  its  high  import  who  can  tell  ? 
Here  like  a  glimmering  beam  it  plays, 

Of  light,  of  joy  ineffable. 

She  is  in  heaven,  lest  earthly  love, 
So  sweet,  so  strong  as  hers  and  thine, 

To  both  might  too  attractive  prove, 
Stealing  the  place  of  love  divine. 

She  is  in  heaven,  to  form  a  link 

Between  thy  heart  and  worlds  unseen, 

That  there,  where  nature's  powers  must  sink, 
Faith's  holier  virtue  may  be  seen. 

She  is  in  heaven,  that  thou  mayst  waste 
No  thought;  no  care,  on  earthly  things, 

But  travel  with  an  angel's  haste, 
And  soar  as  011  an  angel's  wings. 


196  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

She  is  in  heaven,  that  thou,  like  her, 

Mayst  shine  with  pure  and  steadfast  light ; 

Attract  their  eye  whose  footsteps  err, 
And  guide  their  wandering  feet  aright. 

She  is  in  heaven,  but  still,  unseen, 

With  hers  thy  notes  of  praise  may  blend ; 

On  the  same  Rock  thy  soul  may  lean, 
To  the  same  centre  hourly  tend. 

She  is  in  heaven,  that  thou  mayst  prove 
How  blest  the  Christian's  darkest  lot ; 

Earth's  joys  may  fail,  earth's  props  remove, 
But  God,  thy  portion,  changes  not. 

She  is  in  heaven.     When  thou  art  faint, 
And  wouldst  thy  weary  race  were  run, 

Think  that  the  voice  of  that  loved  saint 
Whispers,  "  The  prize  will  soon  be  won ! " 

She  is  in  heaven,  —  has  crossed  ere  noon 

The  stream  which  bounds  th'  eternal  land,  — 

And  wilt  thou  not  rejoin  her  soon  ? 

Yes,  though  till  eve  thou  waiting  stand. 


WHO    ARE    IN   HEAVEN?  197 


SAY,  how  can  I  with  lightsome  feet 
Life's  rugged  pathway  tread, 

Since  he  who  once  did  cheer  me  on 
Lies  silent  now  and  dead, 

No  more  with  soothing  words  to  cheer, 

And  soon  disperse  my  rising  fear  ? 

How  can  I  to  the  festive  board 

A  willing  guest  repair, 
Since  he  who  was  my  earthly  all 

Will  not  conduct  me  there  ? 
'Tis  vain  for  me  to  spread  the  feast, 
Since  he  I  love  is  not  a  guest. 

And  when  around  the  quiet  hearth 

My  children  fondly  meet, 
What  anguish  fills  my  inmost  soul 

To  see  that  vacant  seat, 
Where  the  loved  father  used  to  smile, 
And  our  obtruding  cares  beguile. 

But  why  indulge  these  notes  of  grief  ? 

Why  should  I  thus  complain  ? 
What  now  to  me  is  loss  severe 

Is  his  eternal  gain. 
I  bow  submissive  to  the  rod  ; 
It  raised  a  saint  to  dwell  with  God. 

17* 


198  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN, 

A  few  more  .suns  may  run  their  course, 

While  I  in  sadness  weep, 
Then  by  his  side  in  sweet  repose 

I  shall  securely  sleep  ; 
Then  shall  my  soul  with  rapture  soar 
Where  saints  shall  meet  to  part  no  more ! 


got 

"  THE  loved  and  lost !  "  why  do  we  call  them  lost 
Because  we  miss  them  from  our  onward  road  ? 
God's  unseen  angel  o'er  our  pathway  crossed, 
Looked  on  us  all,  and  loving  them  the  most, 

Straightway  relieved  them  from  life's  weary  load. 

They  are  not  lost ;  they  are  within  the  door 
That  shuts  out  loss,  and  every  hurtful  thing, 

With  angels  bright,  and  loved  ones  gone  before, 

In  their  Redeemer's  presence  evermore, 

And  God  himself  their  Lord,  and  Judge,  and  King. 

And  this  we  call  a  loss ;  0  selfish  sorrow 

Of  selfish  hearts !  0  we  of  little  faith ! 
Let  us  look  round,  some  argument  to  borrow, 
Why  we  in  patience  should  await  the  morrow 

That  surely  must  succeed  this  night  of  death. 


WHO    ARE    IN    HEAVEN?  199 

Ay,  look  upon  this  dreary  desert  path, 

The  thorns  and  thistles  wheresoe'er  we  turn ; 
What  trials  and  what  tears,  what  wrongs  and  wrath, 
What  struggles  and  what  strife,  the  journey  hath ! 
They  have  escaped  from  these,  and,  lo !  we  mourn. 

Ask  the  poor  sailor,  when  the  wreck  is  done, 

Who  with  his  treasures  strove  the  shore  to  reach, 
While  with  the  raging  waves  he  battled  on, 
Was  it  not  joy,  where  every  joy  seemed  gone, 
To  see  Ms  loved  ones  landed  on  the  beach  ? 

A  poor  wayfarer,  leading  by  the  hand 

A  little  child,  hath  halted  by  the  well 
To  wash  from  off  her  feet  the  clinging  sand, 
And  tell  the  tired  boy  of  that  bright  land 

Where,  this  long  journey  past,  they  longed  to  dwell ; 

When,  lo !  the  Lord,  who  many  mansions  had, 

Drew  near  and  looked  upon  the  suffering  twain, 
Then,  pitying,  spake,  "  Give  me  the  little  lad ;  " 
In  strength  renewed,  and  glorious  beauty  clad, 
I'll  bring  him  with  me  when  I  come  again." 

Did  she  make  answer  selfishly  and  wrong,  — 

"  Nay,  but  the  woes  I  feel  he  too  must  share !  " 
Oh,  rather,  bursting  into  grateful  song, 
She  went  her  way  rejoicing,  and  made  strong 
To  struggle  on,  since  he  was  freed  from  care. 


200  HYliWS    ON   HEAVEN. 

We  will  do  likewise ;  death  hath  made  no  breach 
In  love  and  sympathy,  in  hope  and  trust ; 

No  outward  sign  or  sound  our  ears  can  reach, 

But  there's  an  inward,  spiritual  speech, 

That  greets  us  still,  though  mortal  tongues  be  dust. 

It  bids  us  do  the  work  that  they  laid  down, 

Take  up  the  song  where  they  broke  off  the  strain, 
So  journeying  till  we  reach  the  heavenly  town 
Where  are  laid  up  our  treasures  and  our  crown, 
And  our  lost  loved  ones  will  be  found  again. 


YI.    REDEEMED  CHILDEEH. 


9m  Wmttetr. 

OD  looked  among  his  cherub  band, 
And  one  was  wanting  there 

To  swell  along  the  holy  land 

The  hymns  of  praise  and  prayer. 


One  little  soul  which  long  had  been 

Half  way  'tween  earth  and  sky, 
Untempted  in  a  world  of  sin, 
He  watched  with  loving  eye. 


It  was  too  promising  a  flower 
To  bloom  upon  this  earth, 

And  God  did  give  it  angel  power, 
And  bright  celestial  birth. 


The  world  was  all  too  bleak  and  cold 

To  yield  it  quiet  rest ; 
God  brought  it  to  his"  shepherd-fold, 

And  laid  it  on  his  breast. 

201 


202  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

There,  mother,  in  thy  Saviour's  arms, 

Forever  undefiled, 
Amid  the  little  cherub  band, 

Is  thy  beloved  child. 


of 


THEY  were  gathered  early,  earth's  young  and  fair  ; 
Time  cannot  touch  them,  nor  woe,  nor  care  ; 
Safe  in  the  harbor  of  endless  rest, 
The  babes  are  cradled  on  Jesus'  breast. 

There  are  eyes  of  sapphire,  and  locks  of  gold, 
And  roseate  hues,  in  that  little  fold  ; 
Music  untaught,  like  the  wild  bird's  song, 
In  gushes  burst  from  the  cherub  throng. 

From  silken  couches,  and  beds  of  down, 
Through  the  dusky  ways  of  the  crowded  town, 
By  hall,  and  village,  and  moorland  bleak, 
Have  the  angels  travelled  those  buds  to  seek. 

And  some  who  were  born  to  an  earthly  crown, 
When  the  angels  whispered,  they  laid  it  down  ; 
'Twas  a  weary  weight  for  those  tiny  heads, 
So  they  died  uncrowned  in  their  little  beds. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  203 

There  are  those  who  were  born  jn  grief  and  shame, 
Without  mother's  love,  or  a  father's  name ; 
O'er  their  lamp  of  life  the  chill  night-wind  swept ; 
They  were  laid  in  the  earth  unowned,  unwept. 

There  are  some   for  whom  gray  heads   toiled  and 

planned, 

And  they  hoarded  gold,  and  they  purchased  land ; 
The  innocent  heirs  of.  a  sordid  care, 
They  were  snatched  from  the  teeth  of  the  gilded 

snare. 

There  are  some  who  were  taken,  we  know  not  why, 
By  the  love  that  walketh  in  mystery, 
The  mercy  that  moves  behind  sunless  clouds ; 
For  earth's  saints  wept  o'er  their  early  shrouds. 

There  are  those  o'er  whom  solemn  tears  were  shed 
By  parents  who  struggled  for  daily  bread, 
Who  mourned  o'er  the  soul  they  brought  to  strife ; 
But  the  angels  gave  it  the  bread  of  life. 

They  are  one  in  heaven,  —  the  wept  and  dear, 
The  foundling  who  perished  without  a  tear, 
Of  lands  and  titles  earth's  infant  heir, 
And  the  blighted  offspring  of  want  and  care. 


204  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

The  lambs  of  Christ !  by  the  founts  and  rills, 
O'er  the  heights  of  the  everlasting  hills, 
They  follow  with  joy  the  Bridegroom's  train : 
If  ye  love,  can  ye  wish  them  back  again  ? 


WHERE  are  they  now  who  used  at  morn  to  gambol, 
Like  bounding  roebucks,  in  our  sunny  path  ? 

Where  are  "they  now  who  shared  our  evening  ramble, 
And  made  the  green  wood  vocal  with  their  laugh  ? 

Where  are  they  now,  from  earth's  glad  pathway  riven  ? 

We  trust,  in  heaven. 

Where  are  they  now  ?     The  early  birds  are  singing 

Their  joyful  melodies  to  earth  and  air, 
While  all  around  the  song  of  hope  is  ringing ; 

Why  come  they  not  with  us  the  scene  to  share  ? 
Xo  ;  higher  joys  than  ours  to  them  are  given, 

We  trust,  in  heaven. 

Where  are  they  now  ?     The  spring's  young  charms  are 

breaking, 

To  deck  fair  nature  with  their  budding  bloom ; 
All  things  from  winter's  cold  embrace  are  waking  — 

All  save  the  tenants  of  the  dreary  tomb ; 
Their  spring  shall  dawn,  and  death's  dark  bonds  be  riven, 

We  trust,  in  heaven. 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  205 


Sfami 


CJIAELOTTE  ELLIOTT. 


OH  could  I  pierce  that  deep  abyss 
Which  parts  the  unseen  world  from  this, 
I  would  behold  your  seats  in  bliss, 

Sweet  babes ! 

Would  view  your  souls  without  a  stain, 
In  God's  own  image  bright  again, 
And  feel  that  death  for  you  was  gain, 
Sweet  babes ! 

And  I  would  hear  that  matchless  song 
Swelled  by  the  bright  celestial  throng, 
And  catch  your  notes  the  choir  among, 
Sweet  babes ! 

Thrice  happy  travellers !  how  soon 
Your  task  is  o'er,  your  work  is  done ; 
How  short  a  race  your  prize  has  won, 
Sweet  babes ! 

No  toil  nor  care  ye  need  bestow 
To  make  the  flowers  of  virtue  blow ; 
Spontaneous  in  that  clime  they  grow, 
Sweet  babes ! 

18 


206  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

There,  sown  in  a  congenial  bed, 
Each  heavenly  blossom  rears  its  head, 
There  blooms,  and  there  is  perfected, 
Sweet  babes ! 

And  can  we  mourn  that  God,  in  love, 
Saw  fit  so  early  to  remove 
Your  spirits  to  his  courts  above, 

Sweet  babes  ? 

In  this  dark  world,  with  dangers  fraught, 
What  snares  your  footsteps  might  have  caught, 
What  woe  and  ruin  sin  have  wrought, 
Sweet  babes ! 

There  was  a  heavenly  Friend  who  knew 
What  perils  would  your  path  bestrew, 
And  in  his  arms  he  sheltered  you, 

Sweet  babes ! 

From  earth's  polluted  region  far, 
He  bade  you  breathe  a  purer  air ; 
How  pure,  when  God  himself  is  there, 
Sweet  babes ! 

Could  those  who  now  their  couch  bedew 
With  bitter  tears  your  glory  view, 
Ne'er  would  they  weep  again  for  you, 
Sweet  babes ! 


WHO    ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  207 

But  feel  love's  earthly  tie  was  riven 
Only  to  be  forever  given 
A  golden  link  'twixt  earth  and  heaven, 
Sweet  babes ! 


Safe. 


MBS.    C.    A.    SOUTH  BY. 

GOD  took  thee  in  his  mercy, 
A  lamb  untasked,  untried  ; 

He  fought  the  fight  for  thee, 

He  won  the  victory, 
.And  thou  art  sanctified. 

I  look  around  and  see 

The  evil  ways  of  men, 
And,  oh  !  beloved  child, 
I'm  more  than  reconciled 
To  thy  departure  then. 

The  little  arms  that  clasped  me, 
The  innocent  life  that  pressed, 
Would  they  have  been  as  pure 
Till  now  as  when  of  yore 
I  lulled  thee  on  my  breast  ? 


208  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Now  like  a  dew-drop  shrined 

Within  a  crystal  stone, 
Thou'rt  safe  in  heaven,  my  dove, 
Safe  with  the  Source  of  love, 
The  Everlasting  One. 

And  when  the  hour  arrives 

From  flesh  that  sets  me  free, 
Thy  spirit  may  await 
The  first  at  heaven's  gate 
To  meet  and  welcome  me. 


THOMAS    WARD. 


THOU  bright  and  starlike  spirit, 
That,  in  my  visions  wild, 

I  see  'mid  heaven's  seraphic  host, 
Oh,  canst  thou  be  my  child  ? 

My  grief  is  quenched  in  wonder, 
And  pride  arrests  my  sighs  ; 

A  branch  from  this  unworthy  stock 
Now  blossoms  in  the  skies. 


WHO    ARE   IN   HEAVEN?  209 

Our  hopes  of  thee  were  lofty ; 

But  have  we  cause  to  grieve  ? 
Oh,  could  our  fondest,  proudest  wish 

A  nobler  fate  conceive  ?  — 

A  little  weeper  tearless, 

The  sinner  snatched  from  sin, 
The  babe  to  more  than  panhood  grown 

Ere  childhood  did  begin  ? 

And  I,  thy  earthly  teacher, 

Would  blush  thy  powers  to  see ; 
Thou  art  to  me  a  parent  now, 

And  I  a  child  to  thee. 

What  bliss  is  born  of  sorrow ! 

'Tis  never  sent  in  vain ; 
The  heavenly  Surgeon  maims  to  save ; 

He  gives  no  useless  pain. 

Our  God,  to  call  us  homeward, 

His  only  Son  sent  down, 
And  now,  still  more  to  tempt  our  hearts, 

Has  taken  up  our  own. 

18* 


210  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

fflg  Son  m  (Skrg. 

FROM     THE     STBIAC     OF     E  P  II  E  A  E  M     STBUS. 

CHILD,  by  God's  sweet  mercy  given 

To  thy  mother  and  to  me, 
Entering  this  world  of  sorrows, 

By  his  grace,  so  fair  to  see, 
Fair  as  so^e  sweet  flower  in  summer, 

Till  death's  hand  on  thee  was  laid, 
Scorched  the  beauty  from  my  flower, 

Made  the  tender  petals  fade ; 
Yet  I  dare  not  weep  nor  murmur, 

For  I  know  the  King  of  kings 
Leads  thee  to  his  marriage-chamber, 

To  the  glorious  bridal  brings. 

Nature  fain  would  have  me  weeping ; 

Love  asserts  her  mournful  right ; 
But  I  answer,  they  have  brought  thee 

To  the  happy  world  of  light ; 
And  I  fear  that  my  lamentings, 

As  I  speak  thy  cherished  name, 
Desecrate  the  royal  dwelling ;  — 

•Fear  to  meet  deserved  blame, 
If  I  press,  with  tears  of  anguish, 

Into  the  abode  of  joy ; 
Therefore  will  I,  meekly  bowing, 

Offer  thee  to  God,  my  boy. 


WHO   ARE   IN   HEAVEN*  211 

Yet  thy  voice,  thy  childish  singing, 

Soundeth  ever  in  my  ears, 
And  I  listen,  and  remember, 

Till  my  eyes  will  gather  tears, 
Thinking  of  thy  pretty  prattlings, 

And  thy  childish  words  of  love ; 
But  when  I  begin  to  murmur, 

Then  my  spirit  looks  above, 
Listens  to  the  songs  of  spirits, 

Listens,  longing,  wondering, 
To  the  ceaseless  glad  hosannas 

Angels  at  thy  bridal  sing. 


rr.OM  THE  GERMAN  OF  PAUL  GERHARD,  BY  MISS  WINKWOKTH. 

THOU  'rt  mine,  yes,  still  thou  art  mine  own ; 

Who  tells  me  thou  art  lost  ? 
But  yet  thou  art  not  mine  alone ; 

I  own  that  He  who  crossed 
My  hopes  hath  greater  right  in  thee ; 
Yea,  though  he  ask  and  take  from  me 
Thee,  0  my  son,  my  heart's  delight, 
My  wish,  my  thought,  by  day  and  night. 


212  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Ah,  might  I  wish,  ah,  might  I  choose, 

Then  thou,  my  star,  shouldst  live, 
And  gladly  for  thy  sake  I'd  lose 

All  else  that  life  can  give ; 
Oh  fain  I'd  say,  Abide  with  me, 
The  sunshine  of  my  house  to  be ; 
No  other  joy  but  this  I  crave, 
To  love  thee,  darling,  to  my  grave. 

Thus  saith  my  heart,  and  means  it  well ; 

God  meaneth  better  still ; 
My  love  is  more  than  words  can  tell, 

His  love  is  greater  still ; 
I  am  a  father,  he  the  Head 
And  Crown  of  fathers,  whence  is  shed 
The  life  and  love  from  which  have  sprung 
All  blessed  ties  in  old  and  young. 

I  long  for  thee,  my  son,  my  own, 

And  He  who  once  hath  given 
Will  have  thee  now  beside  his  throne, 

To  live  with  him  in  heaven. 
I  cry,  Alas,  my  light,  my  child ! 
But  God  hath  welcome  on  him  smiled, 
And  said,  "  My  child,  I  keep  thee  near, 
For  there  is  nought  but  gladness  here." 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  213 

Oh  blessed  word,  oh  deep  decree, 

More  holy  than  we  think ! 
With  God  no  grief  or  woe  can  be ; 

No  bitter  cup  to  drink, 
No  sickening  hopes,  no  want  or  care, 
No  hurt,  can  ever  reach  him  there ; 
Yes,  in  that  Father's  sheltered  home 
I  know  that  sorrow  cannot  come. 

We  pass  our  nights  in  wakeful  thought 

For  our  dear  children's  sake ; 
All  day  our  anxious  toil  hath  sought 

How  best  for  them  to  make 
A  future  safe  from  care  or  need ; 
Yet  seldom  do  our  schemes  succeed ; 
How  seldom  does  their  future  prove 
What  we  had  planned  for  those  we  love. 

How  many  a  child  of  promise  fair 

Ere  now  hath  gone  astray, 
By  ill  example  taught  to  dare 

Forsake  Christ's  holy  way  ; 
Oh  fearful  the  reward  is  then, 
The  wrath  of  God,  the  scorn  of  men ! 
The  bitterest  tears  that  e'er  are  shed 
Are  his  who  mourns  a  child  misled. 


214  1TYMXS    U-V   1IEAVEX. 

But  now  I  need  not  fear  for  thee ; 

Where  thou  art  all  is  well ; 
For  thou  thy  Father's  face  dost  see, 

With  Jesus  thou  dost  dwell ! 
Yes,  cloudless  joys  around  him  shine ; 
His  heart  shall  never  ache  like  mine  ; 
He  sees  the  radiant  armies  glow 
That  keep  and  guide  us  here  below. 

He  hears  their  singing  evermore ; 

His  little  voice,  too,  sings ; 
He  drinks  of  wisdom's  deepest  lore ; 

He  speaks  of  secret  things 
That  we  can  never  see  or  know, 
Howe'er  we  seek  or  strive,  below, 
While  yet  amid  the  mists  we  stand 
That  veil  this  dark  and  tearful  land. 


Oh  that  I  could  but  watch  afar, 

And  hearken  but  a  while 
To  that  sweet  song  that  hath  no  jar, 

And  see  his  heavenly  smile 
As  he  doth  praise  the  holy  God 
Who  made  him  pure  for  that  abode ! 
In  tears  of  joy  full  well  I  know 
This  burdened  heart  would  overflow ; 


WHO   ARE    IN  HEAVEN?  215 

And  I  should  say,  Stay  here,  my  son, 

My  wild  laments  are  o'er ; 
Oh  well  for  thee  that  thou  hast  won ; 

I  call  thee  back  no  more ; 
But  come,  thou  fiery  chariot,  come, 
And  bear  me  swiftly  to  that  home 
Where  he  with  many  a  loved  one  dwells, 
And  evermore  of  gladness  tells. 

Then  be  it  as  my  Father  wills  ; 

I  will  not  weep  for  thee ; 
Thou  livest ;  joy  thy  spirit  fills ; 

Pure  sunshine  thou  dost  see, 
The  sunshine  of  eternal  rest. 
Abide,  my  child,  where  thou  art  blest ; 
I  with  our  friends  will  onward  fare, 
And,  when  God  wills,  shall  find  thee  there. 


EMILY    C.    JUDSON. 


HE  came,  a  beauteous  vision, 
Then  vanished  from  my  sight, 

His  wing  one  moment  cleaving 
The  blackness  of  my  night  ; 


HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

My  glad  ear  caught  its  rustle, 

Then,  sweeping  by,  lie  stole 
The  dew-drop  that  his  coming 

Had  cherished  in  my  soul. 

Oh,  he  had  been  my  solace 

When  grief  my  spirit  swayed, 
And  on  Ms  fragile  being 

Had  tender  hopes  been  stayed ; 
Where  thought,  where  feeling  lingered, 

His  form  was  sure  to  glide, 
And  in  the  lone  night  watches 

?Twas  ever  by  my  side. 

He  came ;  but  as  the  blossom 

Its  petals  closes  up, 
And  hides  them  from  the  tempest 

Within  its  shattering  cup, 
So  he  his  spirit  gathered 

Back  to  his  frightened  breast, 
And  passed  from  earth's  grim  threshold, 

To  be  the  Saviour's  guest. 

My  boy,  ah  me  !  the  sweetness, 

The  anguish  of  that  word ! 
My  boy,  when  in  strange  night-dreams 

My  slumbering  soul  is  stirred, 


WHO   ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  217 

When  music  floats  around  me, 

When  soft  lips  touch  my  brow, 
And  whisper  gentle  greetings, 

Oh,  tell  me,  is  it  thou  ? 

I  know,  by  one  sweet  token, 

My  Charlie  is  not  dead ; 
One  golden  clue  he  left  me, 

As  on  his  track  he  sped : 
Were  he  some  gem  or  blossom 

But  fashioned  for  to-day, 
My  love  would  slowly  perish 

With  his  dissolving  clay. 

Oh,  by  this  deathless  yearning, 

Which  is  not  idly  given, 
By  the  delicious  nearness 

My  spirit  feels  to  heaven, 
By  dreams  that  throng  my  night-sleep, 

By  visions  of  the  day, 
By  whispers  when  I'm  erring, 

By  promptings  when  I  pray,  — 

I  know  this  life  so  cherished, 
Which  sprang  beneath  my  heart, 

Which  formed  of  my  own  being 
So  beautiful  a  part, 


19 


218  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

This  precious,  winsome  creature, 
My  unfledged,  voiceless  dove, 

Lifts  now  a  seraph's  pinion, 
And  warbles  lays  of  love. 

Oh,  I  would  not  recall  thee, 

My  glorious  angel-boy ; 
Thou  needest  not  my  bosom, 

Rare  bird  of  light  and  joy ; 
Here  dash  I  down  the  tear-drops, 

Still  gathering  in  my  eyes, 
Blest  —  oh,  how  blest !  —  in  adding 

A  seraph  to  the  skies ! 


<9ur  Jfttfkitt 


J  .    W  .    CUNNINGHAM. 


SWEET  babe,  she  glanced  into  our  world  to  see 

A  sample  of  our  misery, 

Then  turned  away  her  languid  eye 

To  drop  a  tear  or  two,  and  die. 

Sweet  babe,  she  tasted  of  life's  bitter  cup, 

Refused  to  drink  the  potion  up  ; 

But  turned  her  little  head  aside, 

Disgusted  with  the  taste,  and  died. 


WHO    ARE   IN  HEAVEN?  219 

Sweet  babe,  she  listened  for  a  while  to  hear 

Our  mortal  griefs,  then  turned  her  ear 

To  angels'  harps  and  songs,  and  cried 

To  join  their  notes  celestial,  sighed,  and  died. 

Sweet  babe  no  more,  but  seraph  now, 
Before  the  throne  behold  her  bow ; 
To  heavenly  joys  her  spirit  flies, 
Blest  in  the  triumph  of  the  skies, 
Adores  the  grace  that  brought  her  there 
Without  a  wish,  without  a  care, 
That  washed  her  soul  in  Calvary's  stream, 
That  shortened  life's  distressing  dream ; 
Short  pain,  short  grief,  dear  babe,  was  thine, 
Now  joys  eternal  and  divine. 

Yes,  thou  art  fled,  and  saints  a  welcome  sing ; 
Thine  infant  spirit  soars  on  angel's  wing ; 
Our  dark  affection  should  have  hoped  thy  stay ; 
The  voice  of  God  has  called  his  child  away, 
Like  Samuel,  early  in  the  temple  found ; 
Sweet  rose  ofJaSharon,  plant  of  holy  ground, 
Oh,  more  than  Samuel  blest,  to  thee  'tis  given 
The  God  he  served  on  earth  to  serve  in  heaven ! 


220  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


%  f  amh  JWirttr. 

.FROM     THE     QKBMAN     OF     W.    MEINIIOLD,    BY     MISS     WIKKWOBTH. 

GENTLE  Shepherd,  thou  hast  stilled 
Now  thy  little  lamb's  long  weeping ; 

Ah !  how  peaceful,  pale,  and  mild, 
In  its  narrow  bed  'tis  sleeping ; 

And  no  sigh  of  anguish  sore 

Heaves  that  little  bosom  more. 


In  this  world  of  care  and  pain, 

Lord,  thou  wouldst  no  longer  leave  it ; 

To  the  sunny  heavenly  plain 

Dost  thou  now  with  joy  receive  it ; 

Clothed  in  robes  of  spotless  white, 

Now  it  dwells  with  thee  in  light. 


Ah,  Lord  Jesus,  grant  that  we 
"Where  it  lives  may  soon  be  living, 

And  the  lovely  pastures  se^ 

That  its  heavenly  food  are  giving ; 

Then  the  gain  of  death  we  prove, 

Though  thou  take  what  most  we  love. 


If. 


m 


&3  m 


% 


ISAAC    WATTS. 


ESCEND  from  heaven,  immortal  Dove, 
Stoop  down  and  take  us  on  thy  wings, 

And  mount  and  bear  us  far  above 
The  reach  of  these  inferior  things ; 

Beyond,  beyond  this  lower  sky, 

Up  where  eternal  ages  roll, 
Where  solid  pleasures  never  die, 

And  fruits  immortal  feast  the  soul. 

• 

Oh  for  a  sight,  a  pleasing  sight, 

Of  our  almighty  Father's  throne ! 
There  sits  our  Saviour  crowned  with  light, 

Clothed  in  a  body  like  our  own. 

Adoring  saints  around  him  stand, 

And  thrones  and  powers  before  him  fall ; 

The  God  shines  gracious  through  the  man, 
And  sheds  sweet  glories  on  them  ^11. 

223 


HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Oh  what  amazing  joys  they  feel, 

While  to  their  golden  harps  they  sing, 

And  sit  on  every  heavenly  hill, 

And  spread  the  triumphs  of  their  King ! 

When  shall  the  day,  dear  Lord,  appear 
That  I  shall  mount  to  dwell  above, 

And  stand  and  bow  amongst  them  there, 
And  view  thy  face,  and  sing,  and  love  ? 


Harping  fartjr  tljexr  Jparps. 

HARK  !  hark !  the  voice  of  ceaseless  praise 

Around  Jehovah's  throne ! 
Songs  of  celestial  joy  they  raise 

To  mortal  lips  unknown. 

Upon  the  sea  of  glass  they  stand, 

In  shining  robes  of  light ; 
The  harps  of  God  are  in  their  hand ; 

They  rest  not  day  or  night. 

Oh  for  an  angel's  perfect  love, 

A  seraph's  soaring  whig, 
To  sing,  with  thousand  saints  above, 
•The  triumphs  of  our  King. 


WHAT  ARE    THEY  DOING   IN  HEAVEN?         225 

On  earth  our  feeble  voice  we  try, 

In  weakness  and  in  shame  ; 
We  bless,  we  laud,  we  magnify, 

We  conquer  in  his  name. 

But,  oh !  with  pure  and  sinless  heart 

His  mercies  to  adore, 
My  God,  to  know  thee  as  thou  art, 

Nor  grieve  thy  Spirit  more ! 

Oh,  blessed  hope  1  a  "  little  while," 

And.  we,  amidst  that  throng, 
Shall  live  in  our  Redeemer's  smile, 

And  swell  the  angels'  song. 


foxtlj  (gfohafetr  Strains, 

ISAAC     WATT  S. 

SERAPHS  with  elevated  strains 

Circle  the  throne  around, 
And  move  and  charm  the  starry  plains 

With  an  immortal  sound. 

Jesus  the  Lord  their  harps  employs ; 

Jesus,  my  love,  they  sing ; 
Jesus,  the  name  of  both  our  joys, 

Sounds  sweet  from  every  string. 


226  HYJIXS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Hark,  how  beyond  the  narrow  bounds 
Of  time  and  space  they  run, 

And  speak,  in  most  majestic  sounds, 
The  Godhead  of  the  Son ; 

How  on  the  Father's  breast  he  lay, 

The  darling  of  his  soul, 
Infinite  years  before  the  day 

Or  heavens  began  to  roll. 

And  now  they  sink  the  lofty  tones, 
And  gentler  notes  they  play, 

And  bring  the  eternal  Godhead  down 
To  dwell  in  humble  clay. 

Oh  sacred  beauties  of  the  Man ! 

The  God  resides  within  ; 
His  flesh  all  pure,  without  a  stain, 

His  soul  without  a  sin. 

Then  how  he  looked,  and  how  he  smiled ; 

What  wondrous  things  he  said  ! 
Sweet  cherubs,  stay,  dwell  here  a  while, 

And  tell  what  Jesus  did. 

At  his  command  the  blind  awake, 
And  feel  the  gladsome  rays ; 

He  bids  the  dumb  attempt  to  speak, 
They  try  their  tongues  in  praise. 


WHAT  ARE    THEY  DOING   IN  HEAVEN?         227 

He  slied  a  thousand  blessings  round 

Where'er  he  turned  his  eye ; 
He  spoke,  and  at  the  sovereign  sound 

The  hellish  legions  fly. 

Thus,  while  with  unambitious  strife 

Th'  ethereal  minstrels  rove 
Through  all  the  labors  of  his  life 

And  wonders  of  his  love, 

In  the  full  choir  a  broken  string 
Groans  with  a  strange  surprise ; 

The  rest  in  silence  mourn  their  King, 
That  bleeds,  and  loves,  and  dies. 

Seraph  and  saint,  with  drooping  wings, 
Cease  their  harmonious  breath ; 

No  blooming  trees,  nor  bubbling  springs, 
Whilo  Jesus  sleeps  in  death. 

Then  all  at  once  to  living  strains 

They  summon  every  chord, 
Break  up  the  tomb,  and  burst  his  chains, 

And  show  their  rising  Lord. 

Around  the  flaming  army  throngs 

To  guard  him  to  the  skies, 
With  loud  hosannas  on  their  tongues, 

And  triumph  in  their  eyes. 


228  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Ill  awful  state  the  conquering  God 
Ascends  his  shining  throne, 

While  tuneful  angels  sound  abroad 
The  victories  he  has  won. 

Now  let  me  rise  and  join  their  song, 

And  be  an  angel  too ; 
My  heart,  my  hand,  my  ear,  my  tongue, 

Here's  joyful  work  for  you. 

I  would  begin  the  music  here, 
And  so  nay  soul  should  rise ; 

Oh  for  some  heavenly  notes  to  bear 
My  spirit  to  the  skies ! 

There  ye  that  love  my  Saviour  sit ; 

There  I  would  fain  have  place, 
Amongst  your  thrones,  or  at  your  feet, 

So  I  might  see  his  face. 

I  am  confined  to  earth  no  more, 
But  mount  in  haste  above, 

To  bless  the  God  that  I  adore, 
And  sing  the  Man  I  love. 


WHAT  ARE   THEY  DOING  IN  HEAVEN*         229 


(feiollhtg;  Jf-esus  %  fthig 


Til  DMAS    KELLEY. 


HARK  !  ten  thousand  harps  and  voices 
Sound  the  notes  of  praise  above ; 

Jesus  reigns,  and  heaven  rejoices ; 
Jesus  reigns,  the  God  of  love  ; 

See,  he  sits  on  yonder  throne ; 

Jesus  rules  the  world  alone. 


King  of  glory,  reign  forever, 

Thine  an  everlasting  crown  ; 
Nothing  from  thy  love  shall  sever 

Those  whom  thou  hast  made  thine  own ; 
Happy  objects  of  thy  grace, 
Destined  to  behold  thy  face. 

Saviour,  hasten  thine  appearing ; 

Bring,  oh  bring  the  glorious  day, 
When,  the  awful  summons  hearing, 

Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away ; 
Then,  with  golden  harps,  we'll  sing, 
"  Glory,  glory  to  our  King !  " 


230  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 


Singing  "®Ior%  % 


J. MONTGOMERY. 


SING  we  the  song  of  those  who  stand 
Around  the  eternal  throne, 

Of  every  kindred,  clime,  and  land, 
A  multitude  unknown. 

Life's  poor  distinctions  vanish  here  ; 

To-day  the  young,  the  old, 
Our  Saviour  and  his  flock,  appear 

One  Shepherd  and  one  fold. 

Toil,  trial,  suffering,  still  await 
On  earth  the  pilgrim  throng  ; 

Yet  learn  we,  in  our  low  estate, 
The  church  triumphant's  song. 

"  Worthy  the  Lamb  for  sinners  slain," 

Cry  the  redeemed  above, 
"  Blessing  and  honor  to  obtain, 

And  everlasting  love." 


"  Worthy  the  Lamb,"  on  earth  we 

"  Who  died  our  souls  to  save  ; 
Henceforth,  0  Death,  where  is  thy  sting  ? 
victory,  0  Grave  ?  " 


WHAT   ARE    THEY  DOING   IN  HEAVEN?         231 

Then  hallelujah !  power  and  praise 

To  God  in  Christ  be  given ; 
May  all  who  now  this  anthem  raise 

Renew  the  strain  in  heaven  I 


Singing 


FROM     THE     I-  AT  IN. 


ALLELUIA  !  sweetest  music,  voice  of  everlasting  joy  ! 
Alleluia  is  the  language  which  the  heavenly  hosts  employ, 

As  they  ever  sing  to  God, 

In  that  pure  and  blest  abode. 

Alleluia  !  joyful  mother,  true  Jerusalem  above  ! 
Alleluia  is  the  music  which  thy  happy  children  love  ; 

Exiles,  tears  our  songs  must  steep  ; 

Oft  by  Babel's  streams  we  weep. 

Alleluia  cannot  ever  be  our  joyous  psalm  below  ; 

Alleluia  —  sin  will  cross  it  often  here  with  tones  of  woe  ; 
Many  a  mournful  hour  we  know 
When  our  tears  for  sin  must  flow. 

Therefore,  'mid  our  tears  still  praising,  grant  \is,  blessed 

Trinity, 
Thy  true  paschal  feast  hereafter  in  the  heavenly  home  to  see, 

Where  our  song  shall  ever  be, 

Alleluia  unto  thee  ! 


232  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


Singing  Ipolg, 


LORD,  thy  glory  fills  the  heaven  ; 

,  Earth  is  with  its  fulness  stored  ; 
Unto  thee  be  glory  given, 

Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  ! 
Heaven  is  still  with  anthems  ringing  ; 

Earth  takes  up  the  angels'  cry, 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  singing, 

Lord  of  hosts,  thou  Lord  most  high  ! 

Ever  thus  in  God's  high  praises, 

Brethren,  let  our  tongues  unite, 
While  our  thoughts  his  greatness  raises, 

And  our  love  his  gifts  excite. 
With  his  seraph  train  before  him, 

With  his  holy  church  below, 
Thus  unite  we  to  adore  him, 

Bid  we  thus  our  anthem  flow. 

Lord,  thy  glory  fills  the  heaven  ; 

Earth  is  with  its  fulness  stored  ; 
Unto  thee  be  glory  given, 

Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord. 
Thus  thy  glorious  name  confessing, 

We  adopt  the  angels'  cry, 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  blessing 

Thee,  the  Lord  our  God  most  high. 


WHAT  ARE   THEY  DOING  IN  HEAVEN*          233 


FROM     THE     LATIJT     OF     THOMAS  KEMPIS. 

HIGH  the  angel  choirs  are  raising 
Heart  and  voice  in  harmony, 

The  Creator  King  still  praising, 
Whom  in  beauty  there  they  see. 

• 

Sweetest  strains  from  soft  harps  stealing, 
Trumpets  notes  of  triumph  pealing, 
Radiant  wings  and  white  stoles  gleaming, 
Up  the  steps  of  glory  streaming, 
Where  the  heavenly  bells  are  ringing, 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  singing, 

To  the  mighty  Trinity ; 
Holy,  holy,  holy,  crying, 
For  all  earthly  care  and  sighing 

In  that  city  cease  to  be. 

Every  voice  is  there  harmonious, 
Praising  God  in  hymns  symphonious ; 
Love  each  heart  with  light  enfolding, 
As  they  stand  in  peace  beholding 

There  the  triune  Deity, 
Whom  adore  the  seraphim, 

Aye,  with  love  eternal  burning, 

20* 


234  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Venerate  the  cherubim, 

To  their  fount  of  honor  turning, 

Whilst  angelic  throngs  adoring 
Gaze  upon  his  majesty. 

Oh  how  beautiful  that  region, 
And  how  fair  that  heavenly  legion, 

Where  thus  men  and  angels  blend ! 
Glorious  will  that  city 'be, 
Full  of  deep  tranquillity, 

Light  and  peace  from  end  to  end. 
All  the  happy  dwellers  there 

Shine  in  robes  of  purity, 

Keep  the  law  of  charity, 

Bound  in  firmest  unity ; 
Labor  finds  them  not,  nor  care ; 

Ignorance  can  ne'er  perplex, 

Nothing  tempt  them,  nothing  vex ; 

Joy  and  health  their  fadeless  blessing, 

Always  all  good  things  possessing. 


¥, 


is  lib  jfag  fa 


inote  j)*  %  Ifcmir  anir  % 


FROM  THE  GERMAN,  BY  C.  T.  BROOKS. 

'NOW  ye  the  land  ?     Oh  !  not  on  earth  it 

lies 
For  which  the  heart  in  hours  of  trouble 

sighs  ; 
Where  flows  no  tear,  no  sorrow  mars  the 

song, 
The  good  are  happy,  and  the  weak  are 

strong. 
Know  ye  the  land  ? 

The  goal,  the  goal, 
0  friends,  is  there  !     Press  on  with  heart  and  soul. 

Know  ye  the  way,  the  rough  and  thorny  road  ? 
The  wanderer  groans  beneath  his  painful  load  ; 
He  faints  —  he  sinks  ;  in  dust  he  lifts  his  eyes  ; 
"  How  long,  0  Lord  ?  "  the  weary  pilgrim  sighs. 
Know  ye  the  way  ? 

It  tends,  it  tends 
To  that  blest  land  where  every  torment  ends. 

237 


288  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Know  ye  the  Friend,  a  man,  a  child  of  earth, 
Yet  more,  far  more  than  all  of  human  birth  ? 
That  rough  and  thorny  road  his  feet  have  trod ; 
Well  can  he  guide  poor  pilgrims  home  to  God. 
Know  ye  the  Friend  ? 

His  hand,  his  hand 
Conducts  us  safely  to  our  native  land. 


tm  to*  fmofo  % 


FBOM  THE  GEBMAX  OF  F.  SCHILLEK. 

FROM  out  this  dim  and  gloomy  hollow, 
Where  hang  the  cold  clouds  heavily, 

Could  I  but  gam  the  clue  to  follow, 
How  blessed  would  the  journey  be  ! 

Aloft  I  see  a  fair  dominion, 

Through  time  and  change  all  vernal  still  ; 
But  where  the  power,  anci  what  the  pinion, 

To  gain  the  ever-blooming  hill  ? 

Afar  I  hear  the  music  ringing, 

The  lulling  sounds  of  heaven's  repose  ; 

And  the  light  gales  are  downward  bringing 
The  sweets  of  flowers  the  mountain  knows. 


WHAT  IS    THE   WAY   T 0  HEAVEN?  239 

I  see  the  fruits,  all  golden  glowing, 

Beckon  the  glossy  leaves  between ; 
And  o'er  the  blooms  that  there  are  blowing 

Nor  blight  nor  winter's  wrath  hath  been. 

To  suns  that  shine  forever  yonder, 
O'er  fields  that  fade  not,  sweet  to  flee ; 

The  very  winds  that  there  may  wander, 
How  healing  must  their  breathing  be ! 


CJmsi  %  Wag, 

THOMAS     B.    READ. 

A  WEARY,  wandering  soul  am  I, 

O'erburthened  with  an  earthly  weight, 

A  pilgrim  through  the  world  and  sky, 
Toward  the  celestial  gate. 

Tell  me,  ye  sweet  and  sinless  flowers 
Who  all  night  gaze  upon  the  skies, 

Have  ye  not  in  the  silent  hours 
Seen  aught  of  Paradise  ? 

Ye  birds,  that  soar  and  sing,  elate 

With  joy,  that  makes  your  voices  strong, 

Have  ye  not  at  the  golden  gate 
Caught  somewhat  of  your  song  ? 


240  HYJfNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

Ye  waters,  sparkling  in  the  morn, 
Ye  seas,  which  glass  the  starry  night, 

Have  ye  not  from  the  imperial  bourn 
Caught  glimpses  of  its  light  ? 

Ye  hermit  oaks  and  sentinel  pines, 
Ye  mountain  forests  old  and  gray, 

In  all  your  long  and  winding  lines, 
Have  ye  not  seen  the  way  ? 

0  moon,  among  thy  starry  bowers, 

Know'st  thou  the  path  the  angels  tread  ? 

Seest  thou  beyond  thy  azure  towers 
The  shining  gates  dispread  ? 

Ye  holy  spheres,  that  sang  with  earth 
When  earth  was  still  a  sinless  star, 

Have  the  immortals  heavenly  birth 
Within  your  realms  afar  ? 

And  thou,  0  sun,  whose  light  unfurls 

Bright  banners  through  unnumbered  skies, 

Seest  thou  among  thy  subject  worlds 
The  radiant  portals  rise  ? 

All,  all  are  mute ;  and  still  am  I 

O'erburthened  with  an  earthly  weight, 

A  pilgrim  through  the  world  and  sky, 
Towards  the  celestial  gate. 


WHAT  IS    TEE    WAY   TO  HEAVEN?  241 

No  answer,  wheresoe'er  I  roam, 

From  skies  afar  no  guiding  ray ; 
But  hark !  the  voice  of  Christ  says,  "  Come, 

Arise,  I  am  the  way." 


%isi  %  Wag  sift  %  fife. 


JAHES     E.    LOWELL. 


I  SAW  a  gate ;  a  harsh  voice  spake  and  said, 
"  This  is  the  gate  of  Life ; "  above  was  writ, 
"  Leave  hope  behind,  all  ye  who  enter  it ; " 

Then  shrank  my  heart  within  itself  for  dread ; 

But,  softer  than  the  summer  rain  is  shed, 

Words  dropped  upon  my  soul,  and  they  did  say, 
"  Fear  nothing ;  faith  shall  save  thee ;  watch  and 
pray." 

So,  without  fear,  I  lifted  up  my  head, 

And,  lo !  that  writing  was  not ;  one  fair  word 
Was  carven  in  its  stead,  and  it  was  "  Love." 
Then  rained  once  more  those  sweet  tones  from 
above, 

With  healing  on  their  wings :  I  humbly  heard, 

"  I  am  the  Life ;  ask,  and  it  shall  be  given ; 

I  am  the  Way ;  by  me  ye  enter  heaven." 
21 


242  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

JhHoioinjj  Cjjrist 

FBOM     THE     GET.  MAX,    BY     1IAET     HOW1TT. 

THERE  is  a  land  where  beauty  cannot  fade, 

Nor  sorrow  dim  the  eye, 

Where  true  love  shall  not  droop  nor  be  dismayed, 
And  none  shall  ever  die. 

Where  is  that  land,  oh,  where  ? 

For  I  would  hasten  there  ; 

Tell  me ;  I  fain  would  go, 

For  I  am  wearied  with  a  heavy  woe ; 

The  beautiful  have  left  me  all  alone ; 

The  true,  the  tender,  from  my  path  have  gone ; 

Oh,  guide  me  with  thy  hand, 

If  thou  dost  know  that  land, 
For  I  am  burdened  with  oppressive  care, 
And  I  am  weak  and  fearful  with  despair ! 

Where  is  it  ?  tell  me  where, 
Thou,  who  art  kind  and  gentle,  tell  me  where ! 

Friend,  thou  must  trust  in  Him  who  trod  before 

The  desolate  paths  of  life, 
Must  bear  in  meekness,  as  he  meekly  bore, 

Sorrow,  and  pain,  and  strife. 
Think  how  the  Son  of  God 
These  thorny  paths  has  trod ; 
Think  how  he  longed  to  go, 
Yet  tarried  out  for  thee  the  appointed  woe ; 


WHAT  IS    THE   WAY   T  0  HEAVEN?  243 

Think  of  his  weariness  in  places  dim, 
When  no  man  comforted  nor  cared  for  him ! 
Think  of  the  blood-like  sweat 
With  which  his  brow  was  wet, 
Yet  how  he  prayed,  unaided  and  alone, 
In  that  great  agony,  "  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

Friend,  do  thou  not  despair, 
Christ  from  his  heaven  of  heavens  will  hear  thy 
prayer. 


I*stts, 


FE01I     THE     GERMAN     OF     COUNT     ZINZEXDORF. 

JESUS,  still  lead  on, 

Till  our  rest  be  won  ; 
And,  although  the  way  be  cheerless, 
We  will  follow,  calm  and  fearless  ; 

Guide  us  by  thy  hand 

To  our  fatherland. 

If  the  way  be  drear, 

If  the  foe  be  near, 
Let  not  faithless  fears  o'ertake  us, 
Let  not  faith  and  hope  forsake  us  ; 

For  through  many  a  foe 

To  our  home  we  go. 


244  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

When  we  seek  relief 
From  a  long-felt  grief, 
When  temptations  coine  alluring, 
Make  us  patient  and  enduring ; 
Show  us  that  bright  shore 
Where  we  weep  no  more. 

Jesus,  still  lead  on, 
Till  our  rest  be  won ; 
Heavenly  Leader,  still  direct  us, 
Still  support,  console,  protect  us, 
Till  we  safely  stand 
In  our  fatherland. 


Cjjr0tigjr  trials* 

FEOM  THE  GERMAN  OF  KOSEOABTEIT. 

THROUGH  night  to  light.     And  though  to  mortal  eyes 

Creation's  face  a  pall  of  horror  wear, 
Good  cheer,  good  cheer !     The  gloom  of  midnight  flies ; 

Then  shall  a  sunrise  follow,  mild  and  fair. 

Through  storm  to  calm.     And  though  his  thunder  car 
The  rumbling  tempest  drive  through  earth  and  sky, 

•Good  cheer,  good  cheer !     The  elemental  war 
Tells  that  a  blessed  healing  hour  is  nigh. 


WHAT  IS    THE    WAY   TO  HEAVEN?  245 

Through  frost  to  spring.     And  though  the  biting  blast 

Of  Eurus  stiffen  nature's  juicy  veins, 
Good  cheer,  good  cheer !     When  winter's  wrath  is  past, 

Soft  murmuring  spring  breathes  sweetly  o'er  the  plains. 

Through  strife  to  peace.    And  though  with  bristling  front 
A  thousand  frightful  depths  encompass  thee, 

Good  cheer,  good  cheer  !     Brave  thou  the  battle's  brunt, 
For  the  peace  march  and  song  of  victory. 

Through  sweat  to  sleep.     And  though  the  sultry  noon, 
With  heavy,  drooping  wing,  oppress  thee  now, 

Good  cheer,  good  cheer !     The  cool  of  evening  soon 
Shall  lull  to  sweet  repose  thy  weary  brow. 

Through  cross  to  crown.     And  though  thy  spirit's  life 

Trials  untold  assail  with  giant  strength, 
Good  cheer,  good  cheer !     Soon  ends  the  bitter  strife, 

And  thou  shalt  reign  in  peace  with  Christ  at  length. 

Through  woe  to  joy.     And  though  at  morn  thou  weep, 
And  though  the  midnight  find  thee  weeping  still, 

Good  cheer,  good  cheer !     The  Shepherd  loves  his  sheep ; 
Resign  thee  to  the  watchful  Father's  will. 

Through  death  to  life.     And  through  this  vale  of  tears, 

And  through  this  thistle-field  of  life,  ascend 
To  the  great  supper  in  that  world  whose  years 

Of  bliss  unfading,  cloudless,  know  no  end. 
21* 


246  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


Cfmntgjr  |prals. 

Is  this  the  way,  my  Father  ?     Tis,  my  child ; 
Thou  must  pass  through  this  tangled,  dreary  wild, 
If  thou  wouldst  reach  the  city  undefiled, 

Thy  peaceful  home  above. 

But  enemies  are  round.     Yes,  child,  I  know 
That  where  thou  least  expect'st  thou'lt  find  a  foe ; 
But  victor  thou  shalt  prove  o'er  all  below, 

Only  seek  strength  above. 

My  Father,  it  is  dark !     Child,  take  my  hand, 
Cling  close  to  me ;  I'll  lead  thee  through  the  land ; 
Trust  my  all-seeing  care ;  so  shalt  thou  stand 
'Midst  glory  bright  above. 

My  footsteps  seem  to  slide !     Child,  only  raise 
Thine  eye  to  me ;  then  in  these  slippery  ways 
I  will  hold  up  thy  goings ;  thou  shalt  praise 
Me  for  each  step  above. 

• 
O  Father,  I  am  weary !     Child,  lean  thy  head 

Upon  my  breast.     It  was  my  love  that  spread 
Thy  rugged  path.     Hope  on,  till  I  have  said, 
"  Rest,  rest  for  aye,  above." 


WHAT   IS    THE    WAY    TO   HEAVEN!  247 


PHILIP    DODDBIDOE. 


Now  let  our  voices  join 

To  form  one  pleasant  song  ; 
Ye  pilgrims  in  Jehovah's  ways, 

With  music  pass  along. 

How  straight  the  path  appears  ; 

How  open  and  how  fair  ! 
No  lurking  gins  to  entrap  our  feet, 

No  fierce  destroyer  there. 

But  flowers  of  Paradise 

In  rich  profusion  spring  ; 
The  sun  of  glory  gilds  the  path, 

And  dear  companions  sing. 

See  Salem's  golden  spires 

In  beauteous  prospect  rise, 
And  brighter  crowns  than  mortals  wear, 

Which  sparkle  through  the  skies. 

All  honor  to  his  name 

Who  drew  the  shining  trace, 

To  Him  who  leads  the  wanderers  on, 
And  cheers  them  with  his  grace. 


HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 


Reduce  the  nations,  Lord ; 

Teach  all  their  kings  thy  ways, 
That  earth's  full  choir  the  notes  may  swell, 

And  heaven  resound  the  praise. 


H.    BO1CAR. 


DROPPING  down  the  troubled  river, 

To  the  tranquil,  tranquil  shore, 
Dropping  down  the  misty  river, 
Time's  willow-shaded  river, 

To  the  spring-embosomed  shore, 
Where  the  sweet  light  shineth  ever, 

And  the  sun  goes  down  no  more ; 

0  wondrous,  wondrous  shore ! 

Dropping  down  the  winding  river, 

To  the  wide  and  welcome  sea ; 
Dropping  down  the  narrow  river, 
Man's  weary,  wayward  river, 

To  the  blue  and  ample  sea, 
Where  no  tempest  wrecketh  ever, 

Where  the  sky  is  fair  and  free ; 

O  joyous,  joyous  sea ! 


WHAT  18    THE    WAY   TO  HEAVEN?  249 

Dropping  down  the  noisy  river, 

To  our  peaceful,  peaceful  home ; 
Dropping  down  the  turbid  river, 
Earth's  bustling,  crowded  river, 

To  our  gentle,  gentle  Tiome, 
Where  the  rough  roar  riseth  never, 

And  the  vexings  cannot  come ; 

0  loved  and  longed-for  home ! 

Dropping  down  the  eddying  river, 

With  a  Helmsman  true  and  tried ; 
Dropping  down  the  perilous  river, 
Mortality's  dark  river, 

With  a  sure  and  heavenly  Guide, 
Even  Him  who,  to  deliver 

My  soul  from  death,  hath  died ; 

0  Helmsman  true  and  tried ! 

Dropping  down  the  rapid  river, 

To  the  dear  and  deathless  land ; 
Dropping  down  the  well-known  river, 
Life's  swollen  and  rushing  river, 

To  the  resurrection-land, 
Where  the  living  live  forever, 

And  the  dead  have  joined  the  band ; 

O  fair  and  blessed  land ! 


250  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 


%  §0r&tr 


"FATHER,  into  thy  loving  hands 

My  feeble  spirit  I  commit, 
While  wandering  in  these  border  lands, 

Until  thy  voice  shall  summon  it. 

Father,  I  would  not  dare  to  choose 
A  longer  life,  an  earlier  death  ; 

I  know  not  what  my  soul  might  lose 
By  shortened  or  protracted  breath. 

These  border  lands  are  calm  and  still, 
And  solemn  are  their  silent  shades  ; 

And  my  heart  welcomes  them,  until 
The  light  of  life's  long  evening  fades. 

I  heard  them  spoken  of  with  dread, 
As  fearful  and  unquiet  places, 

Shades  where  the  living  and  the  dead 
Look  sadly  in  each  other's  faces. 

But  since  thy  hand  hath  led  me  here, 
And  I  have  seen  the  border  land, 

Seen  the  dark  river  flowing  near, 
Stood  on  its  brink,  as  now  I  stand, 


WHAT  IS    THE   WAY   TO  HEAVEN?  251 

There  has  been  nothing  to  alarm 

My  trembling  soul ;  how  could  I  fear 

While  thus  encircled  with  thine  arm  ? 
I  never  felt  thee  half  so  near. 

What  should  appall  me  in  a  place 
That  brings  me  hourly  nearer  thee  ? 

When  I  may  almost  see  thy  face, 
Surely,  'tis  here  my  soul  would  be. 

They  say  the  waves  are  dark  and  deep, 
That  faith  has  perished  in  the  river ; 

They  speak  of  death  with  fear,  and  weep ; 
Shall  my  soul  perish  ?  never,  never ! 

I  know  that  thou  wilt  never  leave 
The  soul  that  trembles  while  it  clings 

To  thee  ;  I  know  thou  wilt  achieve 
Its  passage  on  thine  outspread  wings. 

And  since  I  first  was  brought  so  near 
The  stream  that  flows  to  the  Dead  Sea, 

I  think  that  it  has  grown  more  clear 
And  shallow  than  it  used  to  be. 

I  cannot  see  the  golden  gate 

Unfolding  yet  to  welcome  me ; 
I  cannot  yet  anticipate 

The  joy  of  heaven's  jubilee  ; 


252  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

But  I  will  calmly  watch  and  pray, 
Until  I  hear  my  Saviour's  voice, 

Calling  my  happy  soul  away 
To  see  his  glory  and  rejoice. 


J.  MONTGOMERY. 


LORD,  thy  word  is  light ; 

Led  by  it  aright, 
When  a  pilgrim,  like  my  fathers, 
Life's  last  shadow  round  me  gathers, 

May  its  brightening  ray 

Shine  to  perfect  day. 

With  my  latest  breath, 

Overcoming  death, 
From  the  body  disencumbered, 
With  thy  saints  in  glory  numbered, 

Jesus,  may  I  be 

Found  in  peace  with  thee. 


¥1. 

is  3  k  gn  hfliflnttttf 


II  I?  f  i  @9  f  S  ilifli  ? 


is  not 


FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF  C.  MALAN. 


0,  no,  it  is  not  dying 

To  go  unto  our  God, 
The  glowing  earth  forsaking, 
Our  journey  homeward  taking 

Along  the  starry  road. 

No,  no,  it  is  not  dying 

Heaven's  citizen  to  be, 
The  crown  eternal  wearing, 
And  rest  unbroken  sharing, 

From  care  and  conflict  free. 


No,  no,  it  is  not  dying 

To  hear  the  precious  word, 
Receive  a  Father's  blessing, 
For  evermore  possessing 

The  favor  of  the  Lord. 

255 


256  7/rJ/ATS    ON  HEAVEN. 

No,  no,  it  is  not  dying 

To  wear  a  lordly  crown, 
Among  God's  people  dwelling, 
The  glorious  anthem  swelling 

Of  Him  whose  love  we  own. 

Oh,  no,  this  is  not  dying, 

Thou  Saviour  of  mankind ! 
Streams  there  are  overflowing 
Of  love,  no  hindrance  knowing ; 
Dross  only  here  we  find. 


ing  30  (Sarijr, 


JOSIAH    COX  DEE. 


OH,  cling  not,  trembler,  to  life's  fragile  bark ; 

It  fills  —  it  soon  must  sink  ; 
Look  not  below,  where  all  is  chill  and  dark  ; 

'Tis  agony  to  think 

Of  that  wild  waste ;  but  look,  oh,  look  above, 
And  see  the  outstretched  arm  of  Love ! 

Cling  not  to  this  poor  life  ;  unlock  thy  clasp 

Of  fleeting,  vapory  air ; 
The  world  receding  soon  will  mock  thy  grasp ; 

But  let  the  wings  of  prayer 
Take  the  blest  breeze  of  heaven,  and  upward  flee, 
And  life  from  God  shall  enter  thee. 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO    GO    TO  HEAVEN?  257 

Oh  fear  not  Him  who  walks  the  stormy  wave ; 

'Tis  not  a  spectre,  but  the  Lord ; 
Trust  thou  in  Him  who  overcame  the  grave, 

Who  holds  in  captive  ward 

The  powers  of  hell.     Heed  not  the  monster  grim, 
Nor  fear  to  go  through  death  to  Him. 

Look  not  so  fondly  back  on  this  false  earth ; 

Let  not  hope  linger  here  j 
Say,  would  the  worm  forego  its  second  birth, 

Or  the  transition  fear 

That  gives  it  wings  to  try  a  world  unknown, 
•Although  it  wakes  and  mounts  alone  ? 

But  thou  art  not  alone  ;  on  either  side 
The  portal  friends  stand  guard, 

And  the  kind  spirits  wait  thy  course  to  guide ; 
Why,  why  should  it  be  hard 

To  trust  our  Maker  with  the  soul  he  gave, 

Or  Him  who  died  that  soul  to  save  ? 

Into  his  hands  commit  thy  trembling  spirit 

Who  gave  his  life  for  thine ; 
Guilty,  fix  all  thy  trust  upon  his  merit ; 

To  him  thy  heart  resign ; 
Oh,  give  him  love  for  love,  and  sweetly  fall 
Into  his  hands  who  is  thy  All ! 

22* 


258  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 


,  nni 


H.    BO>'AB. 

I'M  returning,  not  departing ; 

My  steps  are  homeward  bound ; 
I  quit  the  land  of  strangers 

For  a  home  on  native  ground. 

I  am  rising,  and  not  setting ; 

This  is  not  night,  but  day ; 
Not  in  darkness,  but  in  sunshine, 

Like  a  star,  I  fade  away. 

All  is  well  with  me  forever ; 

I  do  not  fear  to  go; 
My  tide  is  but  beginning 

Its  bright,  eternal  flow. 

I  am  leaving  only  shadows, 

For  the  true,  and  fair,  and  good ; 

I  must  not,  cannot  linger  ; 
I  would  not,  though  I  could. 

This  is  not  death's  dark  portal ; 

'Tis  life's  golden  gate  to  me ; 
Link  after  link  is  broken, 

And  I  at  last  am  free. 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO   GO    TO  HEAVEN*  259 

I  am  going  to  the  angels, 

I  am  going  to  my  God ; 
I  know  the  hand  that  beckons  ; 

I  see  the  holy  road. 

Why  grieve  me  with  your  weeping  ? 

Your  tears  are  all  in  vain  ; 
An  hour's  farewell,  beloved, 

And  we  shall  meet  again. 

Jesus,  thou  wilt  receive  me, 

And  welcome  me  above ; 
This  sunshine  which  now  fills  me 

Is  thine  own  smile  of  love. 


from  ||risim. 


THOMAS     PAKNELL. 


DEATH'S  but  a  path  that  must  be  trod, 
If  man  would  ever  pass  to  God  ; 
A  port  of  calms,  a  state  of  ease 
From  the  rough  rage  of  swelling  seas. 

As  men  who  long  in  prison  dwell, 
With  lamps  that  glimmer  round  the  cell, 
Whene'er  their  suffering  years  are  run, 
Spring  forth  to  meet  the  glittering  sun, 


260  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Such  joy,  though  far  transcending  sense, 
Have  pious  souls  at  parting  hence  ; 
On  earth,  and  in  the  body  placed, 
A  few  and  evil  years  they  waste ; 

But,  when  their  chains  are  cast  aside, 
See  the  bright  scene  unfolding  wide, 
Clap  the  glad  wing,  and  tower  away, 
And  mingle  with  the  blaze  of  day. 


ffahmg 


B.    B.    THATCHER. 


EARTH  is  the  spirit's  rayless  cell  ; 
But  then,  as  a  bird  soars  home  to  the  shade 
Of  the  beautiful  wood  where  its  nest  was  made, 

In  bonds  no  more  to  dwell,  — 

So  will  its  weary  wing 
Be  spread  for  the  skies  when  its  toil  is  done, 
And  its  breath  flow  free,  as  a  bird's  in  the  sun, 

And  the  soft,  fresh  gales  of  spring. 

Oh,  not  more  sweet  the  tears 
Of  the  dewy  eve  on  the  violet  shed, 
Than  the  dews  of  age  on  the  hoary  head 

When  it  enters  the  eve  of  years. 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO   GO    TO  HEAVEN?  261 

Nor  dearer,  'mid  the  foam 
Of  the  far-off  sea,  and  its  stormy  roar, 
Is  a  breath  of  balm  from  the  unseen  shore 

To  him  that  weeps  for  home. 

Wings,  like  a  dove,  to  fly ! 
The  spirit  is  faint  with  its  feverish  strife ; 
Oh  for  its  home  in  the  upper  life  ! 

When,  when  will  death  draw  nigh  ? 


©tihmrtr  into  figfrt 


RICHARD     C.    TKENCH. 


OUR  course  is  onward,  onward  into  light ; 

What  though  the  darkness  gathereth  amain  ? 

Yet  to  return,  or  tarry,  both  are  vain. 
How  tarry,  when  around  us  thick  is  night  ? 
Whither  return  ?     What  flower  yet  ever  might, 
In  days  of  gloom,  and  cold,  and  stormy  rain, 
Enclose  itself  in  its  green  bud  again, 
Hiding  from  wrath  of  tempest  out  of  sight  ? 

Courage !  we  travel  through  a  darksome  cave ; 
But  still,  as  nearer  to  the  light  we  draw, 
Fresh  gales  will  meet  us  from  the  upper  air, 

And  wholesome  dews  of  heaven  our  foreheads  lave, 
The  darkness  lighten  more,  till  full  of  awe 
We  stand  in  the  open  sunshine,  unaware. 


262  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Climbing  %  Stair* 

ADELAIDE     A.    PEOCTOB. 

DIM  shadows  gather  thickly  round,  and  up  the  misty  stair 

they  climb, 
The  cloudy  stair  that  upward  leads  to  where  the  closed 

portals  shine, 
Round  which  the  kneeling  spirits  wait  the  opening  of  the 

golden  gate. 

And  some  with  eager  longing  go,  still  pressing  forward, 

hand  in  hand, 
And  some,  with  weary  step  and  slow,  look  back  where 

their  beloved  stand ; 
Yet  up  the  misty  stair  they  climb,  led  onward  by  the 

angel  Time. 

As  unseen  hands  roll  back  the  doors,  the  light  that  floods 

the  very  air 
Is  the  dim  shadow  from  within  of  the  great  glory  hidden 

there ; 
And  morn  and  eve,  and  soon  and  late,  the  shadows  pass 

within  the  gate. 

As,  one  by  one,  they  enter  in,  and  the  dim  portals  close 

once  more, 
The  halo  seems  to  linger  round  those  kneeling  closest  to 

the  door : 
The  joy  that  lightened  from  that  place  shines  still  upon 

the  watcher's  face. 


WE  AT  IS   IT    TO    GO    TO   HEAVENS  263 

The  faint,  low  echo  that  we  hear  of  far-off  music  seems 

to  fill 
The  silent  air  with  love  and  fear,  and  the  world's  clamors 

all  grow  still, 
Until  the  portals  close  again,  and  leave  us  toiling  on  in 

pain. 

Complain  not  that  the  way  is  long ;  —  what  road  is  weary 

that  leads  there  ? 
But  let  the  angel  take  thy  hand,  and  lead  thee  up  the 

misty  stair, 
And  then  with  beating  heart  await  the  opening  of  the 

golden  gate. 


mg  % 


THOMAS     M'   KELLAK. 


THERE  is  a  land  immortal, 

The  beautiful  of  lands  ; 
Beside  the  ancient  portal 

A  sentry  grimly  stands  ; 
He  only  can  undo  it, 

And  open  wide  the  door  ; 
And  mortals  who  pass  through  it 

Are  mortals  never  more. 


264  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

That  glorious  land  is  heaven, 

And  Death  the  sentry  .grim ; 
The  Lord,  therefore,  has  given 

The  opening  keys  to  him ; 
And  ransomed  sinners,  sighing 

And  sorrowful  for  sin, 
Do  pass  the  gate  in  dying, 

And  freely  enter  in. 

Though  dark  and  drear  the  passage 

That  leadeth  to  the  gate, 
Yet  grace  comes  with  the  message 

To  souls  that  watch  and  wait ; 
And,  at  the  tune  appointed, 

A  messenger  comes  down, 
And  leads  the  Lord's  anointed 

From  cross  to  glory's  crown. 

Their  sighs  are  lost  in  singing, 

They're  blessed  in  their  tears ; 
Their  journey  homeward  winging, 

They  leave  to  earth  their  fears ; 
Death  like  an  angel  seemeth ; 

"  We  welcome  thee,"  they  cry ; 
Their  face  with  glory  beameth ; 

'Tis  life  for  them  to  die. 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO   GO    TO  HEAVEN?  265 


FEOM     THE     GERMAN. 

I  JOURNEY  forth  rejoicing 
From  this  dark  vale  of  tears, 

To  heavenly  joy  and  freedom, 
From  earthly  bonds  and  fears, 

Where  Christ  our  Lord  shall  gather 
All  his  redeemed  again, 

His  kingdom  to  inherit ; 

Good-night  till  then. 

Go  to  thy  quiet  resting, 

Poor  tenement  of  clay ; 
From  all  thy  pain  and  weakness 

I  gladly  haste  away ; 
But  still  in  faith  confiding 

To  find  thee  yet  again, 
All  glorious  and  immortal ; 

Good-night  till  then. 

Why  thus  so  sadly  weeping, 
Beloved  ones  of  my  heart  ? 

The  Lord  is  good  and  gracious, 
Though  now  he  bids  us  part. 

Oft  have  we  met  in  gladness, 
And  we  shall  meet  again, 

All  sorrow  left  behind  us ; 

Good-night*  till  then. 


266  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

I  go  to  see  his  glory 

Whom  we  have  loved  below ; 

I  go  the  blessed  angels, 
The  holy  saints,  to  know ; 

Our  lovely  ones  departed 
I  go  to  find  again, 

And  wait  for  you  to  join  us ; 

Good-night  till  then. 

I  hear  the  Saviour  calling ; 

The  joyful  hour  has  come ; 
The  angel  guards  are  ready 

To  guide  me  to  our  home, 
Where  Christ  our  Lord  shall  gather 

All  his  redeemed  again, 
His  kingdom  to  inherit ; 

Good-night  till  then, 


§iirbittg 


J.  MONTOOMEEY. 


LET  me  go,  the  day  is  breaking ; 

Dear  companions,  let  me  go ; 
We  have  spent  a  night  of  waking 

In  the  wilderness  below ; 
Upward  now  I  bend  my  way ; 
Part  we  here  at  break  of  day. 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO   GO    TO  HEAVEN*  267 

Let  me  go ;  I  may  not  tarry, 

Wrestling  thus  with  doubts  and  fears  ; 
Angels  wait  my  soul  to  carry 

Where  my  risen  Lord  appears ; 
Friends  and  kindred,  weep  not  so ; 
If  you  love  me,  let  me  go. 

We  have  travelled  long  together, 
Hand  in  hand  and  heart  in  heart, 

Both  through  calm  and  stormy  weather, 
And  'tis  hard,  'tis  hard  to  part ; 

Yet  we  must ;  farewell  to  you ; 

Answer,  one  and  all,  Adieu. 

'Tis  not  darkness  gathering  round  me 
Which  withdraws  me  from  your  sight ; 

Walls  of  flesh  no  more  can  bound  me ; 
But,  translated  into  light, 

Like  the  lark  on  mounting  wing, 

Though  unseen,  you  hear  me  sing. 

Heaven's  broad  day  hath  o'er  me  broken, 
Far  beyond  earth's  span  of  sky ; 

I  am  dead ;  nay,  by  this  token 
Know  that  I  have  ceased  to  die. 

Would  you  solve  the  mystery  ? 

Come  up  hither,  —  come  and  see ! 


268  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 


Jfkratittg  i0 


A  CLOUD  lay  cradled  near  the  setting  sun  ; 

A  gleam  of  crimson  tinged  its  braided  snow  ; 
Long  had  I  watched  the  glory  moving  on, 

O'er  the  still  radiance  of  the  lake  below  ; 
Tranquil  its  spirit  seemed,  and  floated  slow  ; 

Even  in  its  very  motion  there  was  rest  ; 
While  every  breath  of  eve  that  chanced  to  blow 

Wafted  the  traveller  to  the  beauteous  west. 
Emblem,  me  thought,  of  the  departed  soul, 

To  whose  white  robe  the  gleam  of  bliss  is  given, 
And  by  the  breath  of  mercy  made  to  roll 

Right  onward  to  the  golden  gates  of  heaven, 
Where  to  the  eye  of  faith  it  peaceful  lies, 

And  tells  to  man  his  glorious  destinies. 


t0  <§0ir, 


AUGUSTUS  M.  TOPLADT. 


DEATHLESS  principle,  arise  ! 
Soar,  thou  native  of  the  skies  ! 
Pearl  of  price,  by  Jesus  bought, 
To  Ms  glorious  likeness  wrought, 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO   GO    TO  HEAVEN?  269 

Go  to  shine  before  his  throne, 
Deck  his  mediatorial  crown ; 
Go,  his  triumphs  to  adorn ; 
Born  for  God,  to  God  return. 

Lo,  he  beckons  from  on  high ! 
Fearless  to  his  presence  fly ; 
Thine  the  merit  of  his  blood, 
Thine  the  righteousness  of  God ! 
Angels,  joyful  to  attend, 
Hovering  round  thy  pillow  bend, 
Wait  to  catch  the  signal  given, 
And  escort  thee  quick  to  heaven. 

Is  thy  earthly  house  distressed, 
Willing  to  retain  its  guest  ?       m 
'Tis  not  thou,  but  it,  must  die  — 
Fly,  celestial  tenant,  fly ! 
Burst  thy  shackles !  drop  thy  clay ! 
Sweetly  breathe  thyself  away ! 
Singing,  to  thy  crown  remove, 
Swift  of  wing,  and  fired  with  love ! 

Shudder  not  to  pass  the  stream ; 
Venture  all  thy  care  on  Hun,  — 
Him,  whose  dying  love  and  power 
Stilled  its  tossing,  hushed  its  roar ; 
Safe  in  the  expanded  wave, 
Gentle  as  a  summer's  eve, 

23* 


270  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Not  one  object  of  his  care 
Ever  suffered  shipwreck  there. 

See  the  haven  full  in  view ; 

Love  divine  shall  bear  thee  through ; 

Trust  to  that  propitious  gale, 

Weigh  thine  anchor,  spread  thy  sail ; 

Saints  in  glory,  perfect  made, 

Wait  thy  passage  through  the  shade, 

Ardent  for  thy  coming  o'er  ; 

See,  they  throng  the  blissful  shore ! 

Mount,  their  transports  to  improve : 
Join  the  longing  choir  above ; 
Swiftly  to  their  wish  be  given ; 
Kiiidle  higher  joy  in  heaven ;  — 
Such  the  prospects  that  arise 
To  the  dying  Christian's  eyes ; 
Such  the  glorious  vista  faith 
Opens  through  the  shades  of  death. 


Cjje 


A    BAIL  LIE. 


A  LONG  farewell  to  sin  and  sorrow, 
To  beam  of  day  and  evening  shade ; 

High  in  glory  breaks  our  morrow, 
With  light  that  cannot  fade. 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO   GO   TO  HEAVEN?  271 

While  mortal  flesh  in  flame  is  bleeding, 

For  humble  penitence  and  love, 
Our  Brother  and  our  Lord  is  pleading 

At  mercy's  throne  above. 

We  leave  the  hated  and  the  hating, 

Existence  sad  in  toil  and  strife ; 
The  great,  the  good,  the  brave  are  waiting 

To  hail  our  opening  life. 

Earth's  faded  sounds  our  ears  forsaking, 
A  moment's  silence  death  shall  be ; 

Then,  to  heaven's  jubilee  awaking, 
Faith  ends  in  victory. 


foii|j 


JAMES    BOOO. 


SING  with  me,  sing  with  me, 
Weeping  brethren,  sing  with  me  ! 
For  now  an  open  heaven  I  see, 
And  a  crown  of  glory  laid  for  me. 
How  my  soul  this  earth  despises  ! 
How  my  heart  and  spirit  rises  ! 
Bounding  from  the  flesh  I  sever  ; 
World  of  sin,  adieu  forever  ! 


272  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Sing  with  me,  sing  with  me, 
Friends  in  Jesus,  sing  with  me ! 
All  my  sufferings,  all  my  woe, 
All  my  griefs,  I  here  forego. 
Farewell,  terrors,  sighing,  grieving, 
Praying,  hearing,  and  believing, 
Earthly  trust  and  all  its  wrongings, 
Earthly  love  and  all  its  longings. 

Sing  with  me,  sing  with  me, 
Blessed  spirits,  sing  with  me ! 
To  the  Lamb  our  songs  shall  be, 
Through  a  glad  eternity. 
Farewell,  earthly  morn  and  even, 
Sun,  and  moon,  and  stars  of  heaven ; 
Heavenly  portals  ope  before  me, 
Welcome  Christ  in  all  his  glory ! 


[.    H.    MILMAX. 


HALLELUJAH  !  Lord  our  God ! 
Now  our  earthly  path  is  trod ; 
Passed  are  now  our  cares  and  fears, 
And  we  quit  this  vale  of  tears. 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO    GO    TO  HEAVEN?  273 

Hallelujah !  King  of  kings ! 
Now  our  spirits  spread  their  wings 
To  the  mansions  of  the  blest, 
To  thy  everlasting  rest. 

Hallelujah !  Lord  of  lords ! 

Be  our  last  and  dying  words, 

Glory  to  our  God  above, 

To  our  slaughterers  peace  and  love. 


&  Smiling  Jftrftml 

CHRISTIAN     EXAMINER. 

'Tis  dying ;  life  is  yielding  place 

To  that  mysterious  charm 
Which  spreads  upon  the  troubled  face 

A  fixed,  unchanging  calm, 
That  deepens  as  the  parting  breath 
Is  gently  sinking  into  death. 

A  thoughtful  beauty  rests  the  while 

Upon  its  snowy  brow ; 
But  those  pale  lips  could  never  smile 

More  radiantly  than  now ; 
And  sure  some  heavenly  dreams  begin 
To  dawn  upon  the  soul  within. 


274  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Oh  that  those  mildly  conscious  lips 

Were  parted  to  reply, 
To  tell  how  death' s"  severe  eclipse 

Is  passing  from  thine  eye ; 
For  living  eye  can  never  see 
The  change  that  death  hath  wrought  in  thee, 

Perhaps  thy  sight  is  wandering  far 
Throughout  the  kindled  sky, 

In  tracing  every  infant  star 
Amid  the  flames  on  high,  — 

Souls  of  the  just,  whose  path  is  bent 

Around  the  glorious  firmament. 

Perhaps  thine  eye  is  gazing  down 

Upon  the  earth  below, 
Rejoicing  to  have  gained  thy  crown, 

And  hurried  from  its  woe 
To  dwell  beneath  the  throne  of  Him 
Before  whose  glory  heaven  is  dun. 

Thy  life,  how  cold  it  might  have  been, 

If  days  had  grown  to  years  ! 
How  dark,  how  deeply  stained  with  sin, 

With  weariness  and  tears  ! 
How  happy  thus  to  sink  to  rest, 
So  early  numbered  with  the  blest ! 


WHAT  18  IT  TO   GO   TO  HEAVEN*  275 

'Tis  well,  then,  that  the  smile  should  lie 

Upon  thy  marble  cheek ; 
It  tells  to  our  inquiring  eye 

What  words  could  never  speak — 
A  revelation  sweetly  given 
Of  all  that  man  can  learn  of  heaven. 


Jr0m  Jpnfad  fa  Jfmtmt. 

MB-S.    C.    A.    SOUTHEY. 

TBEAD  softly ;  bow  the  head, 

In  reverent  silence  bow ; 
No  passing  bell  doth  toll, 
Yet  an  immortal  soul 

Is  passing  now. 

Stranger,  how  great  soe'er, 

With  lowly  reverence  bow ; 
There's  one  in  that  poor  shed, 
One  by  that  wretched  bed, 
Greater  than  thou. 

Beneath  that  pauper's  roof, 

Lo !  Death  doth  keep  his  state ; 
Enter  —  no  crowds  attend ; 
Enter  —  no  guards  defend 
This  palace  gate. 


276  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

That  pavement  damp  and  cold 

No  whispering  courtiers  tread 
One  silent  woman  stands 
Chafing,  with  pale,  thin  hands, 
A  dying  head. 

No  busy  murmurs  sound ; 

An  infant  wail  alone ; 
A  sob  suppressed  —  again 
That  short,  deep  gasp,  and  then 
The  parting  groan. 


Oh  change !  Oh  wondrous  change  ! 

Burst  are  the  prison  bars  ! 
This  moment  there,  so  low 
In  mortal  prayer,  —  and  now 
Beyond  the  stars ! 


Oh  change !  stupendous  change ! 

Here  lies  the  senseless  clod ; 
The  soul  from  bondage  breaks, 
The  new  immortal  wakes, 

Wakes  with  his  God ! 


WHAT  IS  IT   TO   GO   TO  HEAVEN?  277 


IIKNET    YAUGHAN. 


THEY  are  all  gone  into  a  world  of  light, 

And  I  alone  sit  lingering  here  ; 
Their  very  memory  is  fair  and  bright, 

And  my  sad  thoughts  doth  clear. 

It  glows  and  glitters  in  my  cloudy  breast, 

Like  stars  upon  some  gloomy  grove, 
Or  those  faint  beams  in  which  this  hill  is  dressed, 

After  the  sun's  remove. 

I  see  them  walking  in  an  air  of  glory, 
Whose  light  doth  trample  on  my  days,  — 

My  days,  which  are  at  best  but  dull  and  hoary, 
Mere  glimmering  and  decays. 

O  holy  hope  and  high  humility, 

High  as  the  heavens  above  ! 
These  are  your  walks,  and  you  have  showed  them  me 

To  kindle  my  cold  love. 

Dear,  beauteous  Death,  the  jewel  of  the  just, 

Shining  nowhere  but  in  the  dark  ! 
What  mysteries  do  lie  beyond  thy  dust, 

Could  man  outlook  that  mark  ! 

24 


278  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

He  that  hath  found  some  fledged  bird's  nest  may 
know 

At  first  sight  if  the  bird  be  flown  ; 
But  what  fair  dell  or  grove  he  sings  in  now, 

That  is  to  him  unknown. 

And  yet,  as  angels  in  some  brighter  dreams 
Call  to  the  soul  when  man  doth  sleep, 

So  some  strange  thoughts  transcend  our  wonted 

themes, 
And  into  glory  peep. 

If  a  star  were  confined  into  a  tomb, 

Her  captive  flames  must  needs  burn  there ; 

But  when  the  hand  that  locked  her  up  gives  room, 
She'll  shine  through  all  the  sphere. 

0  Father  of  eternal  life,  and  all 

Created  glories  under  thee, 
Resume  thy  spirit  from  this  world  of  thrall 

Into  true  liberty ! 

Either  disperse  these  mists,  which  blot  and  fill 

My  perspective  still  as  they  pass ; 
Or  else  remove  me  hence  unto  that  hill 

Where  I  shall  need  no  glass. 


¥11 


o  atmtlS  ml  go  to 


I.  &SPIE&TIGNS  AFTER  HE&YEIT. 
(ing  for  Jf  mmnrtalitg. 


MBS.    ANNE     STEELE. 


AD  prisoners  in  a  house  of  clay, 
With  sins,  and  griefs,  and  pains  oppressed, 

We  groan  the  lingering  hours  away, 
And  wish  and  long  to  be  released. 

Nor  is  it  liberty  alone 

Which  prompts  our  restless,  ardent  sighs ; 
For  immortality  we  groan, 
For  robes  and  mansions  in  the  skies. 

Eternal  mansions,  bright  array ! 

Oh  blest  exchange,  transporting  thought, 
Free  from  th'  approaches  of  decay, 

Or  the  least  shadow  of  a  spot ! 

There  shall  mortality  no  more 

Its  wide-extended  empire  boast, 
Forgotten  all  its  dreadful  power, 

In  life's  unbounded  ocean  lost. 

24*  281 


282  IIYVXS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Bright  world  of  bliss,  Oh  could  I  see 
One  shining  glimpse,  one  choerful  ray  ! 

Fair  dawn  of  immortality, 

Break  through  these  tottering  walls  of  clay ! 

Jesus,  in  thy  dear  name  I  trust, 
My  light,  my  life,  my  Saviour  God ! 

When  this  frail  house  dissolves  in  dust, 
Oh  raise  me  to  thy  bright  abode ! 


FEOM     THE 


THE  beauty  of  my  native  land 

Immortal  love  inspires ; 

I  burn,  I  burn  with  strong  desires, 
And  sigh,  and  wait  the  high  command ; 
There  glides  the  moon  her  shining  way, 
And  shoots  my  heart  through  with  a  silver  ray  ; 

Upward  my  heart  aspires : 
A  thousand  lamps  of  golden  light, 
Hiii^g  high  in  Yaulted  azure,  charm  my  sight, 

And  wink  and  beckon  with  their  amorous  fires. 
0  ye  fair  glories  of  my  heavenly  home, 

Bright  sentinels  who  guard  my  Father's  court, 

Where  all  the  happy  minds  resort, 
When  will  my  Father's  chariot  come  ? 


WHO  WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  283 

Must  ye  forever  walk  the  ethereal  round, 

Forever  see  the  mourner  lie 

An  exile  of  the  sky, 
A  prisoner  of  the  ground  ? 
Descend,  some  shining  servants  from  on  high, 

Build  me  a  hasty  tomb ; 
A  grassy  turf  will  raise  my  head, 
The  neighboring  lilies  dress  my  bed, 

And  shed  a  cheap  perfume. 
Here  I  put  off  the  chains  of  death 

My  soul  too  long  has  worn  ; 
Friends,  I  forbid  one  groaning  breath, 

Or  tear  to  wet  my  urn ; 
Raphael,  behold  me  all  undressed ; 
Here  gently  lay  this  flesh  to  rest ; 
Then  mount,  and  lead  the  path  unknown, 
Swift  I  pursue  thee,  flaming  guide,  on  pinions  of 
my  own. 


Carrg  |pm? 


WHEN  yonder  glorious  sky, 
Lighted  with  million  lamps,  I  contemplate, 
And  turn  my  dazzled  eye 
To  this  vain  mortal  state, 
All  dim  and  visionary,  mean  and  desolate,  — 


284  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

A  mingled  joy  and  grief 
Fills  all  my  soul  with  dark  solicitude ; 

I  find  a  short  relief 

In  tears,  whose  torrents  rude 
Roll  down  my  cheeks,  or  thoughts  which  thus  intrude: 

Thou  so  sublime  abode, 
Temple  of  light,  and  beauty's  fairest  shrine ! 

My  soul,  a,  spark  of  God, 

Aspiring  to  thy  seats  divine, 
Why,  why  is  it  condemned  in  this  dull  cell  to  pine  ? 

Why  should  I  ask  in  vain 
For  truth's  pure  lamp,  and  wander  here  alone, 

Seeking,  through  toil  and  pain, 

Light  from  the  Eternal  One, 
Following  a  shadow  still  that  glimmers  and  is  gone  ? 

Dreams  and  delusions  play 
With  man ;  he  thinks  not  of  his  mortal  fate ; 

Death  treads  his  silent  way ; 

The  earth  turns  round ;  and  then,  too  late, 
Man  finds  no  beam  is  left  of  all  his  fancied  state. 

Else  from  your  sleep,  vain  men ! 
Look  round,  and  ask  if  spirits  born  of  heaven, 

And  bound  to  heaven  again, 

Were  only  lent  or  given 
To  be  in  this  mean  round  of  shades  and  follies  driven. 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  285 

Turn  your  unclouded  eye 
Up  to  yon  bright,  to  yon  eternal  spheres. 

And  spurn  the  vanity 

Of  time's  delusive  years, 
And  all  its  flattering  hopes,  and  all  its  frowning  fears. 

What  is  the  ground  ye  tread, 
But  a  mere  point,  compared  with  that  vast  space 
Around,  above  you  spread, 
Where,  in  the  Almighty's  face, 
The  present,  future,  past,  hold  an  eternal  place  ? 

List  to  the  concert  pure 

Of  yon  harmonious,  countless  worlds  of  light ! 
See,  in  his  orbit  sure 
Each  takes  his  journey  bright, 
Led  by  an  unseen  hand  through  the  vast  maze  of  night. 

But  who  to  these  can  turn, 
And  weigh  them  'gainst  a  weeping  world  like  this, 

Nor  feel  his  spirit  burn 

To  grasp  so  sweet  a  bliss, 
And  mourn  that  exile  hard  which  here  his  portion  is  ? 

For  there,  and  there  alone, 
Are  peace,  and  joy,  and  never-dying  love,  — 

There,  on  a  splendid  throne, 

'Midst  all  those  fires  above, 
In  glories  and  delights  which  never  wane  nor  move. 


286  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Oh  wondrous  blessedness, 
Whose  shadowy  effluence  hope  o'er  time  can  fling ! 

Day  that  shall  never  cease,  — 

No  night  there  threatening, 
No  winter  there  to  chill  joy's  ever-during  spring. 

Ye  fields  of  changeless  green, 
Covered  with  living  streams  and  fadeless  flowers, 

Thou  paradise  serene ! 

Eternal,  joyful  hours 
My  disembodied  soul  shall  welcome  in  thy  bowers. 


C0me, 

COME,  sacred  song,  thy  heaven  of  joy  spread  o'er  me ; 

Thy  golden-pinioned  choir  bring  in  thy  train ; 
The  keen  delights  that  throng  thy  path  restore  me ; 

I  will  not  fright  thee  from  my  side  again. 

Come  at  the  morning  hour,  when  life  is  gushing 
Afresh  from  the  great  Fount  of  life  above ; 

Its  anthem  let  me  hear,  earth's  sorrows  hushing, 
Turning  my  fevered  soul  to  heaven's  pure  love. 

Oh  come,  and  breathe  but  one  sweet  strain  of  gladness, 

To  cheer  my  wearied  spirit  on  its  way ; 
Some  wandering  air  of  seraph's  lyre,  where  sadness 

No  undertone  can  mingle  with  its  lay. 


WHO    WOULD  NOT   GO    TO  HEAVEN*  287 

Or  let  me  hear  that  flood  of  music,  pouring, 
Like  the  deep  voice  of  thousand  oceans'  flow, 

From  the  great  multitude  of  saints  adoring 

In  heaven's  high  court,  and  in  the  church  below. 


Or  let  me  hear  thee,  at  the  altar  kneeling, 
As  when  He  sung  of  old  that  hymn  divine, 

To  loving  hearts  eternal  joys  revealing, 

Where  mortal  forms  in  robes  immortal  shine. 


My  spirit  lives  upon  thy  heavenly  numbers, 
And  I  companion  of  thy  way  would  be, 

Where  thy  pure  beams  illume  the  infant's  slumbers, 
Or  the  high  places  of  eternity. 


Come,  sacred  song,  at  the  cool  hour  of  evening 
Thy  strains  of  joy  pour  on  its  sacred  rest ; 

Let  my  repose  in  life  and  death,  like  heaven, 
All  blissful  be  with  anthems  of  the  blest. 


Come  at  the  silent  hour  of  night,  and  bear  me 
To  your  pure  world,  where  discords  never  come^; 

Tune  my  dark  soul ;  exalt,  refine,  prepare  me 
To  sing  with  thee  in  thy  celestial  home. 


288  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 


(Bnrapiuxeir 


;  D  M  r  N  D   SPKXSER. 


THEY  see  such  admirable  tilings, 
As  carries  them  into  an  exstasy, 

And  heare  such  heavenly  notes  and  carolings 
Of  God's  high  praise,  that  filles  the  brasen  sky, 
And  feele  such  joy  and  pleasure  inwardly, 
That  maketh  them  all  worldly  cares  forget, 
And  onely  think  on  that  before  them  set. 

Ne  from  henceforth  doth  any  fleshly  sense, 
Or  idle  thought  of  earthly  things,  remaine ; 

But  all  that  earst  seemd  sweet  seemes  now  offense, 
And  all  that  pleased  earst  now  seemes  to  paine ; 
Their  ioy,  their  comfort,  their  desire,  their  game, 
Is  fixed  all  on  that  which  now  they  see ; 
All  other  sights  but  fayned  shadows  bee. 

And  that  fair  lampe  which  useth  to  enflame 
The  hearts  of  men  with  selfe-consuming  fyre, 

Thenceforth  seemes  fowle,  and  full  of  sinfull  blame ; 
And  all  that  pompe  to  which  proud  minds  aspyre, 
By  name  of  honor,  and  so  much  desyre, 
Seemes  to  them  basenesse,  and  all  riches  drosse, 
And  all  mirth  sadnesse,  and  all  lucre  losse. 


WHO    WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  289 

So  full  their  eyes  are  of  that  glorious  sight, 
And  senses  fraught  with  such  satietie, 

That  in  nought  else  on  earth  they  can  delight, 
But  in  the  aspect  of  that  felicitie 
Which  they  have  written  in  theyr  inward  ey, 
On  which  they  feed,  and  in  theyr  fastened  mynd 
All  happie  ioy  and  full  contentment  fynd. 

Ah,  then,  my  hungry  soule,  which  long  hast  fed 
On  idle  fancies  of  thy  foolish  thought, 

And,  with  false  beautie's  flattering  bait  misled, 
Hast  after  vaine,  deceitfull  shadowes  sought, 
Which  all  are  fled,  and  now  have  left  thee  nought 
But  late  repentance  through  thy  follies  brief; 
Ah !  cease  to  gaze  on  matter  of  thy  grief, 

And  looke  at  last  up  to  that  soveraine  Light 

From  whose  pure  beams  all  perfect  beauty  springs, 

That  kindleth  love  in  every  godly  spright, 
Even  the  love  of  God ;  which  loathing  brings 
Of  this  vile  world  and  these  gay-seeming  things ; 
With  whose  sweet  pleasures  being  so  possest, 
Thy  straying  thoughts  henceforth  forever  rest. 

25 


290  HYJfXS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Salem  (Bspbir. 


IX     OF     ZUINGEE,    BY     MEKEICI. 


WHAT  joy,  while  thus  I  view  the  day 
That  warns  my  thirsting  soul  away, 

What  transports  fill  my  breast ! 
For,  lo  !  my  great  Redeemer's  power 
Unfolds  the  everlasting  door, 

And  leads  me  to  his  rest. 

The  festive  morn,  my  God,  is  come 
That  calls  me  to  the  hallowed  dome, 

Thy  presence  to  adore ; 
My  feet  the  summons  shall  attend, 
With  willing  steps  thy  courts  ascend, 

And  tread  th'  ethereal  floor. 

E'en  now  to  my  expecting  eyes 

The  heaven-built  towers  of  Salem  rise ; 

E'en  now,  with  glad  survey, 
I  view  her  mansions,  that  contain 
Th'  angelic  forms,  an  awful  train, 

And  shine  with  cloudless  day. 

Hither,  from  earth's  remotest  end, 
Lo !  the  redeemed  of  God  ascend, 

Their  tribute  hither  bring ; 
Here,  crowned  with  everlasting  joy, 
In  hymns  of  praise  their  tongues  employ, 

And  hail  the  immortal  King ;  — 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO   TO  HEAVEN?  291 

Great  Salem.'  s  King,  who  bids  each  state 
On  her  decrees  dependent  wait  ; 

In  her,  ere  time  begun, 
*High  on  eternal  base  upreared, 
His  hands  the  regal  seat  prepared 

For  Jesse's  favored  Son. 

Mother  of  cities  !  o'er  thy  head 

See  Peace,  with  healing  wings  outspread, 

Delighted  fix  her  stay  ; 
How  blest  who  calls  himself  thy  friend  ; 
Success  his  labors  shall  attend, 

And  safety  guard  his 


Thy  walls,  remote  from  hostile  fear, 
Nor  the  loud  voice  of  tumult  hear, 

Nor  war's  wild  wastes  deplore  ; 
There  smiling  Plenty  takes  her  stand, 
And  in  thy  courts  with  lavish  hand 

Has  poured  forth  all  her  store. 

Let  me,  blest  seat,  my  name  behold 
Among  thy  citizens  enrolled, 

In  thee  forever  dwell  ; 
Let  Charity  my  steps  attend, 
My  sole  companion  and  my  friend, 

And  Faith  and  Hope  farewell. 


292  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

fjenraalem,  tlrou  (Kitg  Jmr  anir  llrglj. 

FEOM   THE  GERMAX  OF  J.  M.  METFABT,  BT  MISS  C.  WINKWOKT1I. 

JERUSALEM,  thou  city  fair  and  high, 

Would  God  I  were  in  thee ! 
My  longing  heart  fain,  fain  to  thee  would  fly,  — 
It  will  not  stay  with  me ; 
Far  over  vale  and  mountain, 

Far  over  field  and  plain, 
It  hastes  to  seek  its  Fountain, 
And  quit  this  world  of  pain. 

Oh  happy  day,  and  yet  far  happier  hour, 

When  wilt  thou  come  at  last, 
When,  fearless,  to  my  Father's  love  and  power, 
Whose  promise  standeth  fast, 
My  soul  I  gladly  render  ? 

For  surely  will  his  hand 
Lead  her,  with  guidance  tender, 
To  heaven,  her  fatherland. 

A  moment's  space,  and  gently,  wondrously, 

Released  from  earthly  ties, 
The  fiery  chariot  bears  her  up  to  thee, 
Through  all  these  lower  skies, 
To  yonder  shining  regions, 

While  down  to  meet  her  come 
The  blessed  angel  legions, 
And  bid  her  welcome  home. 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  293 

Oh  hail,  them  glorious  city  !  now  unfold 

The  gates  of  grace  to  me  ! 
How  many  a  time  I  longed  for  thee  of  old, 
Ere  yet  I  was  set  free 
From  yon  dark  life  of  sadness, 

Yon  world  of  shadowy  nought, 
And  God  had  given  the  gladness,  » 

The  heritage  I  sought. 


Oh  what  the  nation,  what  the  glorious  host, 

Comes  sweeping  swiftly  down  ? 
The  chosen  ones  on  earth  who  wrought  the  most, 
The  church's  brightest  crown, 
Our  Lord  hath  sent  to  meet  me, 

As  in  the  far-off  years 
Their  words  oft  came  to  greet  me 
In  yonder  land  of  tears. 


The  patriarchs'  and  prophets'  noble  train, 

With  all  Christ's  followers  true, 
Who  bore  the  cross,  and  could  the  worst  disdain 
That  tyrants  dared  to  do, 
I  see  them  shine  forever, 
All-glorious  as  the  sun, 
'Mid  light  that  fadeth  never, 
Their  perfect  freedom  won. 

25* 


294  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

And  when  within  that  lovely  Paradise 

At  last  I  safely  dwell, 

From  out  rny  blissful  soul  what  songs  shall  rise, 
What  joy  my  lips  shall  tell, 
While  holy  saints  are  singing 

Hosannas  o'er  and  o'er, 
Pure  hallelujahs  ringing 
Around  me  evermore. 


Innumerous  choirs  before  the  shining  throne 

Their  joyful  anthems  raise, 
Till  heaven's  glad  halls  are  echoing  with  the 

tone 

Of  that  great  hymn  of  praise, 
And  all  its  host  rejoices, 

And  all  its  blessed  throng 
Unite  their  myriad  voices 
In  one  eternal  song. 


am 


I  AM  weary  of  straying  ;  oh,  fain  would  I  rest 
In  the  far-distant  land  of  the  pure  and  the  blest, 
Where  sin  can  no  longer  her  blandishments  spread, 
And  fears  and  temptations  forever  have  fled. 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  295 

I  am  weary  of  hoping,  where  hope  is  untrue, 
As  fair,  but  as  fleeting,  as  morning's  bright  dew ; 
I  long  for  that  land  whose  blest  promise  alone 
Is  changeless  and  sure  as  eternity's  throne. 

I  am  weary  of  sighing  o'er  sorrows  of  earth, 
O'er  joy's  glowing  visions  that  fade  at  their  birth, 
O'er  the  pangs  of  the  loved,  that  we  cannot  assuage, 
O'er  the  blightings  of  youth,  and  the  weakness  of  age. 

I  am  weary  of  loving  what  passes  away ; 
The  sweetest,  the  dearest,  alas  !  may  not  stay ; 
I  long  for  that  land  where  these  partings  are  o'er, 
And  death  and  the  tomb  can  divide  hearts  no  more. 

I  am  weary,  my  Saviour,  of  grieving  thy  love ; 
Oh,  when  shall  I  rest  in  thy  presence  above  ? 
I  am  weary,  but,  oh  !  let  me  never  repine, 
While  thy  word,  and  thy  love,  and  thy  promise,  are 
mine. 


I  hwmto  not  fifo 


W.  A.  MUHLENBEKG. 


I  WOULD  not  live  alway,  live  alway  below  ; 

Oh,  no,  I'll  not  linger  when  bidden  to  go  ; 

The  days  of  our  pilgrimage  granted  us  here 

Are  enough  for  life's  woes,  full  enough  for  its  cheer. 


296  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

"Would  I  shrink  from  the  path  which  the  prophets  of 

God, 

Apostles  and  martyrs,  so  joyously  trod  ? 
While  brethren  and  friends  are  all  hastening  home, 
Like  a  spirit  unblest  o'er  the  earth  would  I  roam  ? 

I  would  not  live  alway ;  I  ask  not  to  stay 
Where  storm  after  storm  rises  o'er  the  dark  way ; 
Where,  seeking  for  peace,  we  but  hover  around, 
Like  the  patriarch's  bird,  and  no  resting  is  found ; 
Where  Hop^,  when  she  paints  her  gay  bow  in  the  air, 
Leaves  its  brilliance  to  fade  in  the  night  of  despair ; 
And  joy's  fleeting  angel  ne'er  sheds  a  glad  ray, 
Save  the  gleam  of  the  plumage  that  bears  him  away. 

I  would  not  live  alway,  thus  fettered  by  sin, 
Temptation  without,  and  corruption  within ; 
In  a  moment  of  strength  if  I  sever  the  chain, 
Scarce  the  victory's  mine  ere  I'm  captive  again ; 
E'en  the  rapture  of  pardon  is  mingled  with  fears, 
And  the  cup  of  thanksgiving  with  penitent  tears ; 
The  festival  trump  calls  for  jubilant  songs, 
And  my  spirit  her  own  miserere  prolongs. 

I  would  not  live  alway ;  no,  welcome  the  tomb  ! 
Immortality's  lamp  burns  there  bright  'mid  the  gloom ; 
There,  too,  is  the  pillow  where  Christ  bowed  his  head ; 
Oh,  soft  are  the  slumbers  of  that  holy  bed  ! 


WHO   WOULD   NOT  GO   TO  HEAVENf  297 

And  then  the  glad  dawn  soon  to  follow  that  night, 
When  the  sunrise  of  glory  shall  beam  on  my  sight, 
When  the  full  matin  song,  as  the  sleepers  arise 
To  shout  in  the  morning,  shall  peal  through  the  skies. 


Who,  who  would  live  alway,  away  from  his  God, 

Away  from  yon  heaven,  that  blissful  abode, 

Where  the  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  o'er  the  bright 

plains, 

And  the  noontide  of  glory  eternally  reigns ; 
Where  the  saints  of  all  ages  in  harmony  meet, 
Their  Saviour  and  brethren  transported  to  greet ; 
While  the  songs  of  salvation  unceasingly  roll, 
And  the  smile  of  the  Lord  is  the  feast  of  the  soul  ? 


That  heavenly  music,  what  is  it  I  hear  ? 
The  notes  of  the  harp  ring  sweet  on  the  ear ; 
And  see,  soft  unfolding,  those  portals  of  gold ; 
The  King,  all  arrayed  in  his  beauty,  behold. 
Oh  give  me,  Oh  give  me  the  wings  of  a  dove ; 
Let  me  hasten  my  flight  to  those  mansions  above ; 
Ay,  'tis  now  that  my  soul  on  swift  pinions  would 

soar, 
And  in  ecstasy  bid  earth  adieu  evermore  1 


298  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 


n  Jpsste  ta 


II.    BOXAE. 


BEYOND  the  hills  where  suns  go  down, 
And  brightly  beckon  as  they  go, 

I  see  the  land  of  fair  renown, 

The  land  which  I  so  soon  shall  know. 

Above  the  dissonance  of  time, 

/ 

And  discord  of  its  angry  words, 
I  hear  the  everlasting  chime, 
The  music  of  unjarring  chords. 

I  bid  it  welcome,  and  my  haste 
To  join  it  cannot  brook  delay ; 

Oh  song  of  morning,  come  at  last, 
And  ye  who  sing  it,  come  away ! 

Oh  song  of  light,  and  dawn,  and  bliss, 
Sound  over  earth,  and  fill  these  skies ; 

Nor  ever,  ever,  ever  cease 

Thy  soul-entrancing  melodies ;  — 

Glad  song  of  this  disburdened  earth, 
Which  holy  voices  then  shall  sing, 

Praise  for  creation's  second  birth, 
And  glory  to  creation's  King. 


WHO  WOULD  NOT   GO    TO  HEAVEN1  299 

&0ttl,  gu  ImMjj 


MY  soul,  go  boldly  forth, 
Forsake  this  sinful  earth  ; 
What  hath  it  been  to  thee 

But  pain  and  sorrow  ? 
And  think'  st  thou  it  will  be 

Better  to-morrow  ? 

Why  art  thou  for  delay  ? 
Thou  cam'st  not  here  to  stay  ; 
What  tak'st  thou  for  thy  part 

But  heavenly  pleasure  ? 
Where  then  should  be  thy  heart 

But  where's  thy  treasure  ? 

Thy  God,  thy  Head,  's  above  ; 
There  is  a  world  of  love  ; 
Mansions  there  purchased  are 

By  Christ's  own  merit  ; 
For  there  he  doth  prepare 

Thee  by  his  Spirit. 

Lord  Jesus,  take  my  spirit  ; 
I  trust  thy  love  and  merit  : 
Take  home  thy  wandering  sheep, 

For  thou  has  sought  it  ; 
My  soul  in  safety  keep, 

For  thou  hast  bought  it. 


300  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 


FROM  THE  GEE  MAX  OF  J.  O.  ALBIXU3,  BT  H.  MILLS. 

ATJ,  must  die  !  there's  no  redemption  ; 

Mesh  !  'tis  all  alike  but  grass  ! 
None  that  live  can  plead  exemption  ; 

Saints  through  death  to  glory  pass. 
This  vile  body  here  must  perish 
Ere,  immortal,  it  can  cherish 

Holy  joys,  the  free  reward 

For  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord. 

Life  on  earth  can  I  then  covet 
Longer  than  my  God  shall  please  ? 

When  above  he  would  remove  it, 
I  will  greet  the  soul's  release. 

For,  through  what  my  Saviour  suffered, 

Freedom  from  the  curse  is  offered  ; 
He  has  promised,  and  to  faith 
Gives  the  victory  over  death. 

Death  —  for  rne  the  Saviour  bore  it  ; 

Dying,  won  for  me  the  prize  : 
Life  —  he  will  in  bliss  restore  it  ; 

Shall  I  not  then  joyful  rise 
From  this  world  of  sin  and  anguish 
To  that  world  for  which  I  languish, 

There  the  Three  in  One  to  praise, 

With  his  saints,  through  endless  days  ? 


WHO    WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  301 

Happy  spirits,  ever  living, 

Thousand  thousands  all  as  one, 
Robed  in  light,  their  worship  giving, 

There  rejoice  before  the  throne. 
There  the  seraphim  are  shining, 
Evermore  in  chorus  joining — 

"Holy!  holy!  holy  Lord! 

Be  thy  holy  name  adored ! " 

Worthies,  there,  of  sacred  story, 

Prophets,  patriarchs,  are  met ; 
There,  apostles,  too,  in  glory 

Fill  their  thrones  by  Jesus  set ; 
All  the  saints  that  have  ascended, 
Age  on  age  through  time  extended, 

There  in  blissful  concert  sing 

Hallelujahs  to  their  King. 

• 
0  Jerusalem,  thou  fairest ! 

In  thy  King  how  greatly  blest ! 
Praising  thou  his  splendor  sharest 

Through  thy  streets  of  holy  rest : 
Joy  and  peace,  in  thee  united, 
By  no  fear  of  change  are  blighted, 

Balmy  fragrance  cheers  the  day, 

Which  no  night  shall  drive  away. 

26 


302  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

Yes,  methinks  I  now  behold  it, 
That  fair  city  of  delight ; 

Now  the  robe  —  around  me  fold  it, 
Robe  of  dazzling,  purest  white  ; 

There,  a  crown  of  victory  wearing, 

There,  before  the  throne  appearing, 
"Mingle  with  the  heirs  of  bliss, 
Where  hosannas  never  cease. 


Morfir,  Jfmtotll. 

FBOM    THE    OKBHAX    OF    J.    Q.    ALBIKUS,    BT    MISS     C.    W  I  K  X  W  O  B  T  H  . 

WORLD,  farewell !  of  thee  I'm  tired, 
Now  toward  heaven  my  way  I  take ; 

There  is  peace  the  long-desired, 
Lofty  calm  that  nought  can  break. 

World,  with  thee  is  war  and  strife, 

Thou  with  cheating  hopes  art  rife ; 

But  in  heaven  is  no  alloy, 

Only  peace  and  love  and  joy. 

When  I  reach  that  home  of  gladness, 
I  shall  feel  no  more  this  load, 

Feel  no  sickness,  want,  or  sadness, 
Resting  in  the  arms  of  God. 


WHO  WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  303 

In  the  world  woes  follow  fast, 
And  a  bitter  death  comes  last, 
But  in  heaven  shall  nought  destroy 
Endless  peace  and  love  and  joy. 

What  are  earthly  joys  ?  a  weary 
Chase  of  mist,  or  wind-borne  foam. 

On  this  desert  black  and  dreary 
Sins  and  vices  have  their  home  ; 

Thine,  0  world,  are  war  and  strife, 

Mocking  pleasures,  dying  life  ; 

But  fti  heaven  is  no  annoy, 

Only  peace,  and  love,  and  joy. 

Oh,  the  music  and  the  singing 

Of  the  host  redeemed  by  love  ! 
Oh,  the  hallelujahs  ringing 

Through  the  halls  of  light  above  ! 
Thine,  0  world,  the  scornful  sne*er, 
Misery  thy  reward,  and  fear ; 
But  in  heaven  is  no  annoy, 
Only  peace,  and  love,  and  joy. 

Here  is  nought  but  care  and  mourning ; 

Comes  a  joy,  it  will  not  stay ; 
Fairly  shines  the  sun  at  dawning, 

Night  will  soon  overcloud  the  day ; 


304  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

World,  with  thee  we  weep  and  pine ; 
Gnawing  care  and  grief  are  thine ; 
But  in  heaven  is  no  alloy, 
Only  peace,  and  love,  and  joy. 

Onward,  then ;  not  long  I  wander, 

Ere  my  Saviour  comes  for  me, 
And  with  him  abiding  yonder, 

All  his  glory  I  shall  see ; 
For  there's  nought  but  sorrow  here, 
Toil,  and  pain,  and  many  a  fear ; 
But  in  heaven  is  no  annoy, 
Only  peace,  and  love,  and  joy. 

Well  for  him  whom  death  has  landed 
Safely  on  yon  blessed  shore, 

Where,  in  joyful  worship  banded, 
Sing  the  faithful  evermore ; 

For  the  world  hath  strife  and  war ; 

All  her  works  and  hopes  they  mar ; 

But  in  heaven  is  no  annoy, 

Only  peace,  and  love,  and  joy. 

Time,  thou  speedest  on  but  slowly ; 

Hours,  how  tardy  is  your  pace, 
Ere  with  Him,  the  High  and  Holy, 

I  hold  converse,  face  to  face ; 


WHO    WOULD   NOT   GO    TO  HEAVEN?  305 

World,  with  partings  thou  art  rife, 
Filled  with  tears,  and  storms,  and  strife  ; 
But  in  heaven  can  nought  destroy 
Endless  peace,  and  love,  and  joy. 

Therefore  will  I  now  prepare  me, 
That  my  work  may  stand  his  doom, 

And,  when  all  is  sinking  round  me, 
I  may  hear,  not  Go,  but  Come ! 

"World,  the  voice  of  grief  is  here, 

Outward  seeming,  care,  and  fear ; 

But  in  heaven  is  no  alloy, 

Only  peace,  and  love,  and  joy. 


LADY  FLORA  HASTINGS. 


GRIEVE  not  that  I  die  young  ;  is  it  not  well 

To  pass  away  ere  life  hath  lost  its  brightness 
Bind  me  no  longer,  sisters,  with  the  spell 
Of  love  and  your  kind  words.     List  ye  to  me  : 
Here  I  am  blessed,  but  I  would  be  more  free  ; 
I  would  go  forth  in  all  my  spirit's  lightness  : 
Let  me  depart. 

26* 


306  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Ah !  who  would  linger  till  bright  eyes  grow  dim, 
Kind  voices  mute,  and  faithful  bosoms  cold  ? 

Till  carking  care,  and  coil,  and  anguish  grim, 

Cast  their  dark  shadows  o'er  this  faery  world ; 

Till  fancy's  many-colored  wings  are  furled, 
And  all,  save  the  proud  spirit,  waxeth  old  ? 
I  would  depart. 

Thus  would  I  pass  away,  yielding  my  soul 
A  joyous  thank-offering  to  Him  who  gave 

That  soul  to  be,  those  starry  orbs  to  roll ; 

Thus,  thus  exultingly  would  I  depart, 

Song  on  my  lips,  ecstasy  in  my  heart ; 

Sisters,  sweet  sisters,  bear  me  to  my  grave : 
Let  me  depart. 


II.    LODGING  TO  BE  WITH  JESUS. 


Cake  m*        f0 


OME,  Lord,  my  head  doth  burn,  my  heart 

is  sick, 

Whilst  thou  dost  ever,  ever  stay ; 
Thy  long  deferrings  wound  me  to  the 

quick ; 

My  spirit  gaspeth  night  and  day : 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 

Yet,  if  thou  stayest  still,  why  must  I  stay  ? 

My  God,  what  is  this  world  to  me, 
This  world  of  woe  ?    Hence,  all  ye  clouds,  away, 
Away ;  I  must  get  up  and  see.: 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 

With  one  small  sigh  thou  gav'st  me  th'  other  day 

I  blasted  all  the  joys  about  me  ; 
And,  scowling  on  them,  as  they  pined  away, 
"  Now  come  again,"  said  I,  "  and  flout  me :  " 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee  ! 

307 


308  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

Nothing  but  drought  and  dearth,  but  bush  and  brake, 

Which  way  soe'er  I  look,  I  see ; 
Some  may  dream  merrily ;  but,  when  they  wake, 
They  dress  themselves,  and  come  to  thee : 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 

We  talk  of  harvests ;  there  are  no  such  things 

But  when  we  leave  our  corn  and  hay ; 
There  is  no  fruitful  year  but  that  which  brings 
The  last  and  loved,  though  dreadful  day : 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 

Oh,  loose  this  frame,  this  knot  of  man  untie, 

That  my  free  soul  may  use  her  wing, 
Which  now  is  pinioned  with  mortality, 
As  an  entangled,  hampered  tiling ! 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 

What  have  I  left,  that  I  should  stay  and  groan  ? 

The  most  of  me  to  heaven  is  fled ; 
My  thoughts  and  joys  are  all  packed  up  and  gone, 
And  for  their  old  acquaintance  plead : 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  309 

"  Come,  dearest  Lord,  pass  not  this  holy  season," 

My  flesh,  and  bones,  and  joints  do  pray ; 
And  e'en  my  verse,  when,  by  the  rhyme  and  reason, 
The  word  is  Stay,  says  ever,  Come : 
Oh,  show  thyself  to  me, 
Or  take  me  up  to  thee ! 


fitea. 


FROM  THB  GERMAN  OF  LOUISA  HENRIETTA,  WIFE  OF  FREDERICK  WILLIAM,  ELECTOR  OF 
BRANDENBURG,  BY  J.  S.  ROPES. 

JESUS,  who  is  all  my  trust, 

Jesus,  my  Redeemer,  lives ; 
Though  my  body  sink  in  dust, 

This  assurance  comfort  gives : 
Death's  long  night  I  need  not  fear, 
When  I  know  that  He  is  near. 


Jesus,  my  Redeemer,  lives ; 

I  with  him  shall  live  on  high ; 
Life  to  me  his  promise  gives ; 

Why,  then,  should  I  fear  to  die  ? 
Can  my  glorious  risen  Head 
Leave  his  members  with  the  dead  ? 


310  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Xo ;  too  strong  the  sacred  band 
That  unites  my  soul  to  him ; 

While  I  clasp  his  gracious  hand, 
Faith  and  hope  can  ne'er  grow  dim  ; 

Death  itself  shall  never  part 

My  Redeemer  from  my  heart. 

Born  of  flesh,  my  mortal  frame 
Must,  I  know,  in  dust  decay ; 

But  my  Lord  that  dust  shall  claim, 
And  his  voice  shall  wake  the  clay ; 

Then  shall  I  in  glory  rise 

To  a  mansion  in  the  skies. 

Then,  as  faith  assurance  gives, 
Him,  my  God,  shall  I  behold, 

Know  that  my  Redeemer  lives, 
And  the  grave  shall  lose  its  hold ; 

Then  my.  flesh  revived  shall  stand 

Evermore  at  Christ's  right  hand. 

There  these  eyes  with  raptured  gaze 
My  Redeemer's  form  shall  know ; 

'Mid  the  bright,  unclouded  rays 
Of  his  love  my  soul  shall  glow ; 

Nought  of  weakness  shall  remain, 

Purged  away  each  earthly  stain. 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  311 

Here  I  suffer,  weep,  and  groan ; 

There  I  shall  in  glory  shine ; 
Here  an  earthly  body  sown, 

There  a  heavenly  form  is  mine ; 
Mortal,  in  the  dust  I  lie, 
Spirit,  I  ascend  on  high. 

Let  the  thought  our  spirits  cheer, 

Jesus  bears  us  on  our  way ; 
f Give  no  place  to  grief  or  fear ; 

Calm  in  death,  expect  the  day 
When  the  last  loud  trumpet's  sound 
Calls  you  from  beneath  the  ground. 

Smiling  greet  the  darksome  tomb ; 

Look  not  on  the  grave  with  fear ; 
Christ  shall  dissipate  its  gloom ; 

You  shall  meet  him  in  the  air ; 
Every  foe  that  once  could  try 
Vanquished  at  your  feet  shall  lie. 

Seek  then  now  your  soul  to  raise 
From  the  earth  and  things  below ; 

Consecrated  to  his  praise 

To  whose  courts  you  long  to  go, 

Thither  now  your  heart  impel 

Where  you  would  forever  dwell. 


312  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 


my 

FKOM  THE  GKKMAX  OF  PAUL  G  E  R  II  A  E  D  . 

0  CHRIST,  how  good  and  fair 
Will  be  my  portion  where 
Thine  eyes  on  me  shall  rest, 
And  make  me  fully  blest, 
When  from  this  narrow  earth 
To  thee  I  shall  spring  forth  ! 

What  joy,  unmixed  and  full, 
Thou  Treasure  of  the  soul, 
When,  in*  that  home  above, 
Thy  heart  speaks  out  its  love 
To  all  made  one  with  thee, 
My  brothers,  Lord,  and  me  ! 

What  glorious  light  will  shine 
Forth  from  thy  face  divine, 
Which  in  that  life  untold 
Then  first  I  shall  behold  ! 
How  will  thy  goodness  free 
Fill  me  with  ecstasy  ! 

Lips,  whence  such  words  have  streamed, 
Eyes,  whence  such  pity  beamed, 
Side,  wounded  once  for  me, 
All,  all  I  then  shall  see, 
With  reverent  rapture  greet 
Thy  pierced  hands  and  feet  ! 


WHO    WOULD  NOT   GO    TO  HEAVEN?  313 

Ah,  Jesus,  my  "  good  part," 
How  will  my  mind  and  heart 
Yibrate  with  rapture  through, 
And  all  my  soul  grow  new, 
When  thou,  with  smiles  of  love, 
Openest  those  gates  above  ! 

"  Come,"  thou  wilt  say,  "  blest  child, 

Taste  pleasures  undefiled, 

And  see  the  gifts,  how  fair, 

My  Father's  hands  prepare  ; 

Pasture  thine  heart  forever 

In  joy  that  fadeth  never."  * 

O  thou  poor,  passing  earth ! 
What  are  thy  treasures  worth 
Beside  those  heavenly  crowns, 
And  more  than  golden  thrones, 
Which  Christ  hath  treasured  there 
For  those  who  please  him  here  ? 

This  is  the  angels'  land, 
Where  all  the  blessed  stand ; 
Here  I  hear  nought  but  singing, 
See  all  with  gladness  springing ; 
Here  is  nq  cross,  no  sorrow, 
Jfo  parting  on  the  morrow. 

27 


314  HYMXS    OX   HEAVEN. 

When  shall  that  joy  begin  ? 
When  wilt  thou  call  me  in  ? 
Thou  knowest ;  but  my  feet 
Press  onward  thee  to  meet, 
And  my  heart,  day  by  day, 
Bears  me  to  thee  away. 


f0r      s  Stoke. 


CHABLOTTE     ELLIOTT. 


THERE  are  refreshments  sweeter  far  than  sleep, 

Though  its  soft  power 
Might  gladly  close  the  vigils  I  now  keep 

From  hour  to  hour, 

And  hush  these  vain  imaginings  to  rest, 
Which  silence  in  my  heart  its  dearest  guest. 

Oh,  I  have  heard  his  voice,  his  voice  of  love, 

In  the  still  night, 
Sweet  as  the  songs  from  seraph  hearts  above, 

Tranced  in  delight ! 

It  haunts  my  memory,  lives  within  my  heart, 
And  makes  me  long,  yea,  languish  to  depart. 


WHO    WOULD  NOT  GOTO  HEAVEN?  315 

Those  who  have  heard  it  once  can  ne'er  forget 

That  voice  divine ; 
With  it  compared,  earth's  accents  are  not  sweet. 

My  God,  I  pine 

A  dweller  in  those  palaces  to  be, 
Where  I  shall  hear  it  through  eternity. 

Then  I  shall  ne'er  be  harassed  by  the  din 

Of  earthly  thought ; 
All  will  be  holy  and  serene  within ; 

My  spirit,  fraught 

With  deepest  reverence,  with  intense  desire, 
Will  listen  to  that  voice,  and  never  tire. 


ty  %t  I  jjab  Mings  lib  a  gjofu 

MY  soul,  amid  this  stormy  world, 

Is  like  some  fluttered  dove, 
And  fain  would  be  as  swift  of  wing, 

To  flee  to  Him  I  love. 

The  cords  that  bound  my  heart  to  earth 

Are  broken  by  his  hand ; 
Before  his  cross  I  found  myself, 

A  stranger  in  the  land. 


316  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

That  visage  marred,  those  sorrows  deep, 

The  vinegar  and  gall, 
Were  Jesus'  golden  chains  of  love, 

His  captive  to  enthrall. 

My  heart  is  with  him  on  his  throne 

And  ill  can  brook  delay, 
Each  moment  listening  for  the  voice, 

"  Rise  up,  and  come  away." 

With  hope  deferred,  oft  sick  and  faint, 
"  Why  tarries  he  ?  "  I  cry  ; 

And  should  my  Saviour  chide  my  haste, 
Sure  I  could  make  reply,  — 

May  not  an  exile,  Lord,  desire 
His  own  sweet  land  to  see  ? 

May  not  a  captive  seek  release, 
A  prisoner  to  be  free  ? 

A  child,  when  far  away,  may  long 
For  home  and  kindred  dear, 

And  she  that  waits  her  absent  Lord 
May  sigh  till  he  appear. 

I  would,  my  Lord  and  Saviour,  know 
That  which  no  measure  knows  ; 

Would  search  the  mystery  of  thy  love, 
The  depth  of  all  thy  woes. 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  317 

Jf  foatit  10  fe  C{jm* 

DE     FLEUKY. 

YE  angels  who  stand  round  the  throne, 

And  view  my  Immanuel's  face, 
In  rapturous  songs  make  him  known ; 

Tune,  tune  your  soft  harps  to  his  praise ; 
He  formed  you  the  spirits  you  are, 

So  happy,  so  noble,  so  good ; 
When  others  sunk  down  in  despair, 

Confirmed  by  his  power  ye  stood. 

Ye  saints,  who  stand  nearer  than  they, 

And  cast  your  bright  crowns  at  his  feet, 
His  grace  and  his  glory  display, 

And  all  his  rich  mercy  repeat ; 
He  snatched  you  from  hell  and  the  grave ; 

He  ransomed  from  death  and  despair ; 
For  you  he  was  mighty  to  save, 

Almighty  to  bring  you  safe  there. 

Oh,  when  will  the  moment  appear 

When  I  shall  unite  in  your  song  ? 
I'm  weary  of  lingering  here, 

And  I  to  your  Saviour  belong ; 
I'm  fettered  and  chained  up  in  clay ; 

I  struggle  and  pant  to  be  free  ; 
I  long  to  be  soaring  away, 

My  God  and  my  Saviour  to  see. 

27* 


318  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

I  want  to  put  on  my  attire, 

Washed  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb ; 
I  want  to  be  one  of  your  choir, 

And  tune  my  sweet  harp  to  his  name ; 
I  want,  oh,  I  want  to  be  there, 

Where  sorrow  and  sin  bid  adieu, 
Your  joy  and  your  friendship  to  share, 

To  wonder  and  worship  with  you ! 


C0  fee  fo 


AWAY  with  our  sorrow  and  fear  ; 

We  soon  shall  have  entered  our  home  ; 
The  city  of  saints  shall  appear, 

The  day  of  eternity  come  ; 
From  earth  we  shall  quickly  remove, 

To  dwell  in  a  native  abode, 
In  mansions  of  glory  above, 

Prepared  of  our  Father  and  God. 

Ah  !  who  upon  earth  can  conceive 

The  bliss  that  in  heaven  they'll  share  ? 

And  who  this  dark  world  would  not  leave, 
And  cheerfully  seek  to  be  there, 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  319 

Where  Christ  is  the  Light  and  the  Sun, 

And  we  by  reflection  shall  shine, 
With  him  everlastingly  one, 

And  bright  in  effulgence  divine  ? 

"Tis  good  at  thy  word  to  be  here ; 

'Tis  better  in  thee  to  be  gone, 
And  see  thee  in  glory  appear, 

And  rise  to  a  share  in  thy  throne ; 
All  tears  will  be  wiped  from  our  eyes, 

When  thee  we  behold  in  the  cloud, 
And  echo  the  joys  of  the  skies, 

And  shout  to  the  trumpet  of  God. 


on  %  feg*  at  fife  I  SianJr. 


PHILIP    DODDRIDGE. 


WHILE  on  the  verge  of  life  I  stand, 
And  view  the  scenes  on  either  hand, 
My  spirit  struggles  with  its  clay, 
And  longs  to  wing  its  flight  away. 

Where  Jesus  dwells  my  soul  would  be ; 
It  faints  my  much-loved  Lord  to  see ; 
Earth,  twine  no  more  about  my  heart, 
For  'tis  far  better  to  depart. 


320  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Come,  ye  angelic  envoys,  come, 
And  lead  the  willing  pilgrim  home ; 
Ye  know  the  way  to  Jesus'  throne, 
Source  of  my  joys  and  of  your  own. 

That  blessed  interview  how  sweet, 
To  fall  transported  at  his  feet ; 
Raised  in  his  arms,  to  view  his  face, 
Through  the  full  beamings  of  his  grace ; 

To  see  heaven's  shining  courtiers  round, 

Each  with  immortal  glories  crowned, 

• 
And,  while  his  form  in  each  I  trace, 

Beloved  and  loving  all  to  embrace ; 

As  with  a  seraph's  voice  to  sing ; 
To  fly  as  on  a  cherub's  wing ; 
Performing,  with  unwearied  hands, 
A  present  Saviour's  high  commands  ! 

Yet,  with  these  prospects  full  in  sight, 
I'll  wait  thy  signal  for  my  flight ; 
For,  while  thy  service  I  pursue, 
I  find  my  heaven  begun  below. 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVENt  321 


|  £ ong  to  PjcrJir  fira 


CHARLES     WESLEY. 


I  LONG  to  behold  him  arrayed 

"With  glory  and  light  from  above, 
The  King  in  his  beauty  displayed, 

His  beauty  of  holiest  love ; 
I  languish  and  sigh  to  be  there, 

Where  Jesus  has  fixed  his  abode ; 
Oh,  when  shall  we  meet  in  the  air, 

And  fly  to  the  mountain  of  God  ? 

With  him  I  on  Zion  shall  stand, 

For  Jesus  hath  spoken  the  word, 
The  breadth  of  Immanuel's  land 

Survey  by  the  light  of  my  Lord ; 
But  when,  on  thy  bosom  reclined, 

Thy  face  I  am  strengthened  to  see, 
My  fulness  of  rapture  I  find, 

My  heaven  of  heavens,  in  thee. 

How  happy  the  people  that  dwell 

Secure  in  the  city  above ! 
No  pain  the  inhabitants  feel, 

No  sickness  or  sorrow  shall  prove. 
Physician  of  souls,  unto  me 

Forgiveness  and  holiness  give  ; 
And  then  from  the  body  set  free, 

And  then  to  the  city  receive ! 


322  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 


0f 


OH  for  the  wings  of  faith  and  love, 
To  bear  my  thoughts  and  hopes  above 

These  little  scenes  of  care  ! 
Above  these  gloomy  mists  which  rise, 
And  pain  my  heart,  and  cloud  my  eyes, 

To  see  the  dawn  of  heavenly  day,  and  breathe 
celestial  ah*. 


Yet  higher  would  I  stretch  my  flight, 
And  reach  the  sacred  courts  of  light, 

"Where  my  Redeemer  reigns  ; 
Far-beaming  from  his  radiant  throne, 
Immortal  splendors,  joys  unknown, 

With  never-fading  lustre,  shine  o'er  all  the 
blissful  plains. 

Ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  tongues 
There  join  in  rapture-breathing  songs, 

And  tune  the  golden  lyre 
To  Jesus,  their  exalted  Lord ; 
Dear  name,  how  loved,  and  how  adored ! 

His  charms  awake  the  heavenly  strain,  and 
every  note  inspire. 


WHO    WOULD  NOT   GO    TO  HEAVEN'S  323 

No  short-lived  pleasure  there  beguiles, 
But  perfect  bliss  forever  smiles, 

With  undeclining  ray ; 
Thither  my  thoughts  would  fain  ascend, 
But,  ah  !  to  dust  and  earth  they  bend, 

Fettered  with  empty  vanities,  and  chained  to 
lifeless  clay. 

Dear  Lord,  and  shall  I  ever  be 
So  far  from  bliss,  so  far  from  thee, 

An  exile  from  the  sky  ? 
Oh  break  these  chains,  my  wishes  fire, 
And  upward  bid  my  heart  aspire  ; 

Without  thy  aid  I  cannot  rise ;  oh  give  me 
wings  to  fly ! 


MBS.    ANNE     8TEELE. 


SHOULD  nature's  charms,  to  please  the  eye, 

In  sweet  assemblage  join, 
All  nature's  charms  would  droop  and  die, 

Jesus,  compared  with  thine. 

Vain  were  her  fairest  beams  displayed, 
And  vain  her  blooming  store  ; 

Even  brightness  languishes  to  shade, 
And  beauty  is  no  more. 


324  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

But  ah,  how  far  from  mortal  sight 
The  Lord  of  glory  dwells ! 

A  veil  of  interposing  night 
His  radiant  face  conceals. 

Oh  could  my  longing  spirit  rise 
On  strong,  immortal  wing, 

And  reach  thy  palace  in  the  skies, 
My  Saviour  and  my  King ! 

There  myriads  worship  at  thy  feet, 
And  there  —  divine  employ  — 

The  triumphs  of  thy  love  repeat, 
In  songs  of  endless  joy. 

Thy  presence  beams  eternal  day 
O'er  all  the  blissful  place ; 

Who  would  not  drop  this  load  of  clay 
And  die  to  see  thy  face  ? 


%  ®r0fam  0f  mg 


WM.    COWPKK. 


To  Jesus,  the  crown  of  my  hope, 
My  soul  is  in  haste  to  be  gone ; 

Oh  bear  me,  ye  cherubim,  up, 
And  waft  me  away  to  his  throne  ! 


WHO    W'OVLD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  325 

My  Saviour,  whom  absent  I  love, 

Whom,  not  having  seen,  I  adore, 
Whose  name  is  exalted  above 

All  glory,  dominion,  and  power ; 

Dissolve  thou  these  bonds,  that  detain 
My  soul  from  her  portion  in  thee ; 

Ah,  strike  off  this  adamant  chain, 
And  make  me  eternally  free ! 

When  that  happy  era  begins, 

When  arrayed  in  thy  glories  I  shine, 

Nor  grieve  any  more  by  m/  sins 
The  bosom  on  which  I  recline,  — 

Oh  then  shall  the  veil  be  removed, 

And  round  me  thy  brightness  be  poured ; 

I  shall  meet  him  whom  absent  I  loved, 
I  shall  see  whom  unseen  I  adored. 

And  then  never  more  shall  the  fears, 
The  trials,  temptations,  and  woes, 

Which  darken  this  valley  of  tears, 
Intrude  on  my  blissful  repose. 

Or,  if  yet  remembered  above, 
Remembrance  no  sadness  shall  raise ; 

They  will  be  but  new  signs  of  thy  love, 
New  themes  for  my  wonder  and  praise. 

28 


326  HYMNS    ON   HEAVED. 

Thus  the  strokes  which  from  siii  and  from  pain 

Shall  set  me  eternally  free, 
"Will  but  strengthen  and  rivet  the  chain 

Which  binds  me,  my  Saviour,  to  thee. 


ixrtH 


HEXRY    VAUGHAJf. 


AH  !  what  time  wilt  thou  come  ?  when  shall  that  crie, 

"  The  Bridegroom's  coming !  "  fill  the  sky  ? 

. 

Shall  it  in  the  evenkig  run, 
When  our  words  and  works  are  done  ? 
Or  will  thy  all-surprising  light 
Break  at  midnight, 

When  either  sleep,  or  some  dark  pleasure, 
Possesseth  mad  man  without  measure  ? 
Or  shall  these  early  fragrant  hours 
Unlock  thy  bowers, 
And,  with  their  blush  of  light,  descry 
Thy  locks  crowned  with  eternitie  ? 
Indeed,  it  is  the  only  time 
That  with  thy  glory  doth  best  chime  : 
All  now  are  stirring ;  every  field 
Full  hymns  doth  yield  ; 
The  whole  creation  shakes  off  night, 
And  for  thy  shadow  looks  the  light ; 


WHO   WOULD   NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  327 

Stars  now  vanish  without  number ; 
Sleepie  planets  set  and  slumber ;  t 
The  pursie  clouds  disband  and  scatter ; 
All  expect  some  sudden  matter ; 
Not  one  beam  triumphs,  but  from  far 
Thtit  Morning  Star. 
Oh,  at  what  time  soever  Thou, 
Unknown  to  us,  the  heavens  wilt  bow, 
And,  with  thy  angels  in  the  van, 
Descend  to  judge  poor  careless  man, 
Grant,  .... 

As  this  restless,  vocal  spring 
All  day  and  night  doth  run  and  sing, 
And  though  here  born,  yet  is  acquainted 
Elsewhere,  and  flowing  keeps  untainted ; 
So  let  me,  all  my  busie  age, 
In  thy  free  services  engage ; 
And  though,  while  here,  of  force  I  must 
Have  commerce  sometimes  with  poor  dust, 
And  in  my  flesh,  though  vile  and  low, 
As  this  doth  in  her  channel  flow, 
Yet  let  my  course,  my  aim,  my  love, 
And  chief  acquaintance,  be  above ; 
So,  when  that  day  and  hour  shall  come 
In  which  thyself  wilt  be  the  sun, 
Thou'lt  find  me  dressed  and  on  my  way, 
Watching  the  break  of  thy  great  day. 


328  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 


Mffnt,  fortr,  olj  foljcn  sljali  Mt? 


JEKEMT     TATLOE. 


WHEN,  Lord,  oh  when  shall  we 
Our  dear  Salvation  see  ? 

Arise,  arise ; 

Our  fainting  eyes 

Have  longed  all  night,  and  'twas  a  long  one,  too. 
Man  never  yet  could  say 
He  saw  more  than  one  day, 

One  day  of  Eden's  seven  ; 
The  guilty  hours,  there  blasted  with  the  breath 
Of  sin  and  death, 

Have  ever  since  worn  a  nocturnal  hue ; 

• 
But  thou  hast  given  us  hopes  that  we, 

At  length,  another  day  shall  see, 

Wherein  each  vile,  neglected  place, 

Gilt  with  the  aspect  of  thy  face, 
Shall  be,  like  that,  the  porch  and  gate  of  heaven. 

How  long,  dear  God,  how  long  ? 

See  how  the  nations  throng ; 

All  human  kind, 

Knit  and  combined 
Into  one  body,  look  for  thee  their  head. 

Pity  our  multitude ; 

Lord,  we  are  vile  and  rude, 

Headless  and  senseless,  without  thee, 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO   TO  HEAVEN?  329 

Of  all  things  but  the  want  of  thy  blest  face ; 

Oh  haste  apace, 

And  thy  bright  self  to  this  our  body  wed, 
That,  through  the  influx  of  thy  power, 
Each  part,  that  erst  confusion  wore, 
May  put  on  order,  and  appear 
Spruce,  as  the  childhood  of  the  year, 

When  thou  to  it  shalt  so  united  be.     Amen. 


m  sjmtt  %  f  0folg  gm  fa 


ISAAC    WATTS. 


WHEN  shall  thy  lovely  face  be  seen  ? 

When  shall  our  eyes  behold  our  God  ? 
What  lengths  of  distance  lie  between, 

And  hills  of  guilt,  a  heavy  load ! 

Our  months  are  ages  of  delay, 
And  slowly  every  minute  wears ; 

Fly,  winged  time,  and  roll  away 

These  tedious  rounds  of  sluggish  years, 

Ye  heavenly  gates,  loose  all  your  chains ; 

Let  the  eternal  pillars  bow ; 
Blest  Saviour,  cleave  the  starry  plains, 

And  make  the  crystal  mountains  flow. 


330  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Hark,  how  thy  saints  unite  their  cries, 
And  pray,  and  wait  the  general  doom ; 

Corne  thou,  the  Soul  of  all  our  joys, 
Thou,  the  Desire  of  nations,  come. 

Our  spirits  shake  their  eager  wings, 
And  burn  to  meet  thy  flying  throne ; 

We  rise  away  from  mortal  things 
T  attend  thy  shining  chariot  down. 

Now  let  our  cheerful  eyes  survey 
The  blazing  earth  and  melting  hills, 

And  smile  to  see  the  lightnings  play, 
And  flash  along  before  thy  wheels. 

Oh  for  a  shout  of  violent  joys 

To  join  the  trumpet's  thundering  sound ! 
The  angel  herald  shakes  the  skies, 

Awakes  the  graves,  and  tears  the  ground. 

Ye  slumbering  saints,  a  heavenly  host 
Stands  waiting  at  your  gaping  tombs ; 

Let  every  sacred  sleeping  dust 
Leap  into  life,  for  Jesus  comes. 

Jesus,  the  God  of  might  and  love, 

New  moulds  our  limbs  of  cumbrous  clay ; 

Quick  as  seraphic  flames  we  move, 
Active  and  young,  and  fair  as  they. 


WHO  WOULD  NOT  GO    TO  HEAVEN?  331 

Our  airy  feet  with  unknown  flight, 

Swift  as  the  motions  of  desire, 
Run  up  the  hills  of  heavenly  light, 

And  leave  the  weltering  world  in  fire. 


gag  g  atoning. 


How  long  shall  Death  the  tyrant  reign 

And  triumph  o'er  the  just, 
While  the  rich  blood  of  martyrs  slain 

Lies  mingled  with  the  dust  ? 

When  shall  the  tedious  night  be  gone  ? 

When  will  our  Lord  appear  ? 
Our  fond  desires  would  pray  him  down, 

Our  love  embrace  him  here. 

Let  faith  arise  and  climb  the  hills, 

And  from  afar  descry 
How  distant  are  his  chariot  wheels, 

And  tell  how  fast  they  fly. 

Lo,  I  behold  the  scattering  shades  ; 

The  dawn  of  heaven  appears  ; 
The  sweet  immortal  morning  spreads 

Its  blushes  round  the  spheres. 


332  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

I  see  the  Lord  of  glory  come, 
And  flaming  guards  around ; 

The  skies  divide  to  make  him  room, 
The  trumpet  shakes  the  ground. 

I  hear  the  voice,  "  Ye  dead,  arise ! " 
And,  lo  !  the  graves  obey, 

And  waking  saints  with  joyful  eyes 
Salute  th'  expectant  day. 

They  leave  the  dust,  and  on  the  wing 

Rise  to  the  middle  air, 
In  shining  garments  meet  their  King, 

And  low  adore  him  there. 


Oh  may  my  humble  spirit  stand 
Amongst  them  clothed  in  white ! 

The  meanest  place  at  his  right  hand 
Is  infinite  delight. 

How  will  our  joy  and  wonder  rise, 

When  our  returning  King 
Shall  bear  us  homeward  through  the  skies 

On  love's  triumphant  wing  I 


WHO   WOULD  NOT  GO   TO  HEAVEN*  333 


FROM     THE     GERMAN     OF     LAUEEXTIUS     LAUKEITTII 

REJOICE,  all  ye  believers, 

And  let  your  lights  appear  ; 
The  evening  is  advancing, 

And  darker  night  is  near  ; 
The  Bridegroom  is  arising, 

And  soon  he  draweth  nigh  ; 
Up  !  pray,  and  watch,  and  wrestle, 

At  midnight  comes  the  cry. 

See  that  your  lamps  are  burning  ; 

Replenish  them  with  oil, 
And  wait  for  your  salvation, 

The  end  of  earthly  toil  ; 
The  watchers  on  the  mountain 

Proclaim  the  Bridegroom  near; 
Go,  meet  him  as  he  cometh, 

With  hallelujahs  clear  ! 

Ye  wise  and  holy  virgins, 

Now  raise  your  voices  higher, 
Till  in  songs  of  jubilee 

They  meet  the  angel-choir  ; 
The  marriage-feast  is  waiting, 

The  gates  wide  open  stand  ; 
Up  !  up  !  ye  heirs  of  glory, 

The  Bridegroom  is  at  hand  ! 


334  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Ye  saints,  who  here  in  patience 

Your  cross  and  sufferings  bore, 
Shall  live  and  reign  forever 

When  sorrow  is  no  more  ; 
Around  the  throne  of  glory 

The  Lamb  ye  shall  behold, 
In  triumph  cast  before  Him 

Your  diadems  of  gold. 

Palms  of  victory  are  there ; 

There  radiant  garments  are ; 
There  stands  the  peaceful  harvest, 

Beyond  the  reach  of  war ; 
There,  after  stormy  winter, 

The  flowers  of  earth  arise, 
And  from  the  grave's  long  slumber 

Shall  meet  again  our  eyes. 

Our  Hope  and  Expectation, 

O  Jesus,  now  appear ! 
Arise,  thou  Sun,  so  longed  for, 

O'er  this  benighted  sphere  ! 
With  hearts  and  hands  uplifted, 

We  plead,  0  Lord,  to  see 
The  day  of  earth's  redemption 

That  brings  us  unto  thee  ! 


WHO   WOULD  NOT   GO    TO  HEAVEN*  335 

goto  %  f) tariff  (Sate  iffnfirto. 


tY     HISS    WI1TKTTOBTH. 


Now  the  pearly  gates  unfold ; 
Oh,  thou  Joy  of  highest  heaven, 

Who,  ere  earth  was  made,  of  old 
Light  of  light  for  light  was  given ! 

Hasten,  Lord,  and  quickly  come ; 
Bring  the  .bride  thou  hast  betrothed, 
In  thine  own  pure  radiance  clothed, 

Safe  to  thine  eternal  home, 

Where  no  more  the  night  of  sin 
Spreads  its  fear  and  gloom  within. 

All  my  spirit  thirsts  to  see, 

Lord,  thy  face  unveiled  and  bright, 

And  to  stand  from  sin  set  free, 
Spotless  Lamb,  amid  thy  light ; 

But  I  leave  it,  —  thou  dost  well, 
And  my  heaven  is  here  and  now, 
Daystar  of  my  soul,  if  thou 

Wilt  but  deign  in  me  to  dwell ; 
For  without  thee  could  there  be 
Joy  in  heaven  itself  for  me  ? 

Bliss  from  thee  my  soul  hath  won, 
Spite  of  darkly  threatening  ill ; 

And  my  heart  calls  thee  its  Sun, 
And  the  sea  of  care  grows  still 


336  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

In  the  shilling  of  thy  smile ; 

And  thy  love's  all-quickening  ray 

Chases  night  and  pain  away, 
That  my  heart  grows  light  the  while ; 

Heavenly  joys  in  thee  are  mine ; 

Far  from  thee  I  mourn  and  pine. 

Graft  me  into  thee  forever, 
Tree  of  Life,  that  I  may  grow 

Stronger  heavenward,  drooping  never 
For  the  sharpest  storms  that  blow, 

Bearing  fruits  of  faith  and  truth ; 
Then  transplant  me  out  of  time 
Into  that  eternal  clime 

Where  I  shall  renew  my  youth, 

When  earth's  withered  leaves  shall  bloom 
Fresh  in  beauty  from  the  tomb. 

Life,  to  whom  as  to  my  Head 
I  unite  me,  through  my  soul 

Now  thy  quickening  life-stream  shed, 
And  thy  love's  warm  current  roll, 

Freshening  all  with  strength  and  grace ; 
Be  thou  mine,  —  I  am  thine  own, 
Here  and  ever,  thine  alone ; 

All  my  hope  in  thee  I  place  ; 

Heaven  and  earth  are  nought  to  me, 
Safe,  0  Life  of  life,  with  thee ! 


\m    m  m 


ioto 


.    BOKAK. 


Y  God,  it  is  not  fretfulness 

That  makes  me  say  "  How  long  ?  " 

It  is  not  heaviness  of  heart 
That  hinders  me  in  song ; 

'Tis  not  despair  of  truth  and  right, 
Nor  coward  dread  of  wrong. 

But  how  can  I,  with  such  a  hope 

Of  glory  and  of  home, 
With  such  a  joy  before  my  eyes, 

Not  wish  the  time  were  come, 
Of  years  the  jubilee,  of  days 

The  Sabbath  and  the  sun  ? 

These  years,  what  ages  they  have  been ! 

This  life,  how  long  it  seems ! 
And  how  can  I,  in  evil  days, 

'Mid  unknown  hills  and  streams, 
But  sigh  for  those  of  home  and  heart, 

And  visit  them  in  dreams  ? . 


340  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Yet  peace,  my  heart,  and  hush,  my  tongue ; 

Be  calm,  my  troubled  breast ; 
Each  restless  hour  is  hastening  on 

The  everlasting  rest ; 
Thou  knowest  that  the  time  thy  God 
Appoints  for  thee  is  best. 


Let  faith,  not  fear  nor  fretfulness, 

Awake  the  cry,  "  How  long  ?  " 
Let  no  faint-heartedness  of  soul 

Damp  thy  aspiring  song  : 
Right  comes,  truth  dawns,  the  night  departs 

Of  error  and  of  wrong. 


m  r0m.es      s 


FROM  THE  T3ERMAX   OF  K.  J.  P.  SPITTA. 

"  JESUS'  hour  is  not  yet  come ; " 
Let  this  word  thy  answer  be, 

Pilgrim,  asking  for  thy  home, 
Longing  to  be  blest  and  free 

Yet  a  season  tarry  on,  — 

Nobly  borne  is  nobly  done. 


HOW  SOON  IN  HEAVEN?  341 

While  oppressing  cares  and  fears 

Night  and  day  no  respite  leave, 
Still  prolonged  through  many  years, 

None  to  help  thee  or  relieve ; 
Hold  the  word  of  promise  fast, 
Till  deliverance  comes  at  last. 

Every  creature-hope  and  trust, 

Every  earthly  prop  or  stay, 
May  lie  prostrate  in  the  dust, 

May  have  failed  or  passed  away ; 
Then,  when  darkest  falls  the  night, 
Jesus  comes,  and  all  is  light. 

Yes,  the  Comforter  draws  nigh 
To  the  breaking,  bursting  heart, 

For,  with  tender  sympathy, 
He  has  seen  and  felt  its  smart ; 

Through  its  darkest  hours  of  ill 

He  is  waiting,  watching  still. 

Dost  thou  ask  when  comes  his  hour  ? 

Then  when  it  shall  aid  thee  best ; 
Trust  his  faithfulness  and  power, 

Trust  in  him,  and  quiet  rest ; 
Suffer  on,  and  hope,  and  wait,  — 
Jesus  never  comes  too  late. 

29* 


342  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Blessed  day,  which  hastens  fast, 
End  of  conflict  and  of  sin ! 

Death  itself  shall  die  at  last, 
Heaven's  eternal  joys  begin  ; 

Then  eternity  shall  prove 

God  is  Light  and  God  is  Love. 


fittlc 


GEEVILLE. 


A  LITTLE  while,  and  every  fear 

That  o'er  the  perfect  day 
Flings  shadows  dark  and  drear, 

Shall  pass  like  mist  away ; 
The  secret  tear,  the  anxious  sigh, 

Shall  pass  into  a  smile ; 
Time  changes  to  eternity, — 

We  only  wait  a  little  while. 

A  little  while,  and  every  charm 

That  steals  away  the  heart, 
And  earthly  joys  that  warm 

And  lure  us  from  our  part, 
Shall  cease  our  heavenly  views  to  dim ; 

The  world  shall  not  beguile 
Our  ever-faithful  thoughts  from  Him 

Who  bade  us  wait  a  little  while. 


HOW  SOON  IN  HEAVEN?  343 

A  little  while,  and  all  around, 

The  earth,  and  sea,  and  sky, 
The  sunny  light  and  sound 

Of  nature's  minstrelsy, 
Shall  be  as  they  had  never  been, 

And  we,  so  weak  and  vile, 
Be  creatures  of  a  brighter  scene,  — 

We  only  wait  a  little  while. 


I aayu. 


ADELAIDE  A.  PKOCTOK. 


A  LITTLE  longer  still,  —  patience,  beloved !  — 
A  little  longer  still,  ere  Heaven  unroll 

The  glory,  and  the  brightness,  and  the  wonder, 
Eternal  and  divine,  that  waits  thy  soul. 

A  little  longer  ere  life  true,  immortal,  — 

Not  this  our  shadowy  life,  —  will  be  thine  own, 

And  thou  shalt  stand  where  winged  archangels  wor- 
ship, 
And  trembling  bow  before  the  great  white  throne. 

A  little  longer  still,  and  heaven  awaits  thee, 
And  fills  thy  spirit  with  a  great  delight ; 

Then  our  pale  joys  will  seem  a  dream  forgotten, 
Our  sun  a  darkness,  and  our  day  a  night. 


344  HYMNS    ON   HEAVES. 

A  little  longer,  and  thy  heart,  beloved, 
Shall  beat  forever  with  a  love  divine ; 

And  joy  so  pure,  so  mighty,  so  eternal, 

No  creature  knows  and  lives,  will  then  be  thine. 

A  little  longer  yet,  and  angel  voices 

Shall  ring  in  heavenly  chant  upon  thine  ear ; 

Angels  and  saints  await  thee,  and  God  needs  thee ; 
Beloved,  can  we  bid  thee  linger  here  ? 


Now  it  belongs  not  to  my  care 

Whether  I  die  or  live ; 
To  love  and  serve  thee  is  my  share, 

And  this  thy  grace  must  give. 
If  life  be  long,  I  will  be  glad, 

That  I  may  long  obey ; 
If  short,  yet  why  should  I  be  sad, 

That  shall  have  the  same  pay  ? 

If  death  shall  bruise  this  springing  seed 

Before  it  comes  to  fruit, 
The  will  with  thee  goes  for  the  deed ; 

Thy  life  was  in  the  root. 


HOW  SOON  IN   HEAVEN?  345 

Long  life  is  a  long  grief  and  toil, 

And  multiplieth  faults ; 
In  long  wars  he  may  have  the  foil 

That  'scapes  in  short  assaults. 

Christ  leads  us  through  no  darker  rooms 

Than  he  went  through  before  ; 
He  that  into  God's  kingdom  comes 

Must  enter  by  this  door. 
Come,  Lord,  when  grace  hath  made  me  meet 

Thy  blessed  face  to  see, 
For  if  thy  work  on  earth  be  sweet, 

What  will  thy  glory  be  ? 

Then  I  shall  end  my  sad  complaints, 

And  weary,  sinful  days, 
And  join  with  the  triumphant  saints 

That  sing  Jehovah's  praise. 
My  knowledge  of  that  life  is  small ; 

The  eye  of  faith  is  dim ; 
But  'tis  enough  that  Christ  knows  all, 

And  I  shall  be  with  him. 


346  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 


EXAMIXEE. 

NEAKER  home,  nearer  home  ! 

However  dark  aud  lonely 
The  path  through  which  we  roam, 

This  is  a  journey  only  ; 
And  though  we  oft,  affrighted, 

Shrink  back  with  sigh  and  moan, 
Our  camp-fires  still  are  lighted 

"  A  day's  march  nearer  home." 

Nearer  home,  nearer  home  ! 

Oh,  joy  beyond  expressing, 
That  over  thorn  and  stone 

Our  feet  are  homeward  pressing  ! 
For  though  we  leave  behind  us 

Some  buds  of  hope  unblown, 
The  sunset  still  doth  find  us 

"  A  day's  march  nearer  home." 

Nearer  home,  nearer  home  ! 

0  many-mansioned  dwelling, 
Beneath  thy  shining  dome 

No  tides  of  grief  are  swelling  ; 
And  toward  thy  fadeless  glory 

With  eager  haste  we  come, 
Repeating  earth's  brief  story, 

"  A  day's  march  nearer  home." 


HOW  SOON  IN  HEAVEN*  347 

Nearer  home,  nearer  home ! 

Soon  through  its  open  portals 
The  ransomed  hosts  will  come 

To  welcome  us  immortals. 
Then  be  the  path  before  us 

With  wrecks  or  roses  strewn, 
Each  night  we'll  sing  in  chorus, 

"  A  day's  march  nearer  home." 


.    Item  i|jan  fojrm  hie 

KNELL  of  departed  years, 

Thy  voice  is  sweet  to  me ; 
It  wakes  no  sad,  foreboding  fears, 
Calls  forth  no  sympathetic  tears, 
Time's  restless  course  to  see ; 
From  hallowed  ground 
I  hear  the  sound, 
Diffusing  through  the  air  a  holy  calm  around. 

Thou  art  the  voice  of  love, 

To  chide  each  doubt  away ; 
And  as  thy  murmur  faintly  dies, 
Visions  of  past  enjoyment  rise 
In  long  and  bright  array ; 

I  hail  the  sign 
•     That  love  divine 
Will  o'er  my  future  path  in  cloudless  mercy  shine. 


18  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Thou  art  the  voice  of  hope ; 
The  music  of  the  spheres, 
A  song  of  blessings  yet  to  come, 
A  herald  from  my  future  home, 
My  soul  delighted  hears : 
By  sin  deceived, 
By  nature  grieved, 
Still  am  I  nearer  rest  than  when  I  first  believed. 

Thou  art  the  voice  of  life, 

A  sound  which  seems  to  say, 
Oh,  prisoner  in  this  gloomy  vale, 
Thy  flesh  shall  faint,  thy  heart  shall  fail, 
Yet  fairer  scenes  thy  spirit  hail 
That  cannot  pass  away ; 
Here  grief  and  pain 
Thy  steps  detain ; 

There,  in  the  image  of  the  Lord,  shalt  thou  with 
Jesus  reign. 


D.    BONAR. 


A  FEW  more  years  shall  roll, 
A  few  more  seasons  come, 

And  we  shall  be  with  those  that  rest 
Asleep  within  the  tomb. 


HOW  SOON  IN  HEAVEN?  349 

Then,  0  my  Lord,  prepare 

My  soul  for  that  great  day ; 
Oh  wash  ine  in  thy  precious  blood, 

And  take  my  sins  away ! 

A  few  more  suns  shall  set 

O'er  these  dark  hills  of  time, 
And  we  shall  be  where  suns  are  not, 

A  far  serener  clime. 
Then,  0  my  Lord,  prepare 

My  soul  for  that  blest  day ; 
Oh  wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood, 

And  take  my  sins  away ! 

A  few  more  storms  shall  beat 

On  this  wild,  rocky  shore, 
And  we  shall  be  where  tempests  cease, 

And  surges  swell  no  more. 
Then,  O  my  Lord,  prepare 

My  soul  for  that  calm  day ; 
Oh  wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood, 

And  take  my  sins  away. 

A  few  more  struggles  here, 

A  few  more  partings  o'er, 
A  few  more  toils,  a  few  more  tears, 

And  we  shall  weep  no  more. 

30 


350  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Then,  0  my  Lord,  prepare 
My  soul  for  that  blest  day ; 

Oh  wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood, 
And  take  my  sins  away. 

A  few  more  Sabbaths  here 

Shall  cheer  us  on  our  way, 
And  we  shall  reach  the  endless  rest, 

The  eternal  Sabbath-day. 
Then,  0  my  Lord,  prepare 

My  soul  for  that  sweet  day ; 
Oh  wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood, 

And  take  my  sins  away. 

'Tis  but  a  little  while, 

And  He  shall  come  again 
Who  died  that  we  might  live,  who  lives 

That  we  with  him  may  reign. 
Then,  0  my  Lord,  prepare 

My  soul  for  that  glad  day ; 
Oh  wash  me  in  thy  precious  blood, 

And  take  my  sins  away. 


HOW  SOON  IN  HEAVEN?  351 


H.    BOXAE. 

BEYOND  the  smiling  and  the  weeping 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  waking  and  the  sleeping, 
Beyond  the  sowing  and  the  reaping, 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 
Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
Sweet  home  I 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

Beyond  the  blooming  and  the  fading 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  shining  and  the  shading, 
Beyond  the  hoping  and  the  dreading, 

I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
Sweet  home  ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

Beyond  the  rising  and  the  setting 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 

Beyond  the  calming  and  the  fretting, 
Beyond  remembering  and  forgetting, 

I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 
Sweet  home  ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 


352  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 

Beyond  the  parting  and  the  meeting 

I  shall  be  soon ; 

Beyond  the  farewell  and  the  greeting, 
Beyond  the  pulse's  fever  beating, 

I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home ! 
Sweet  home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 

Beyond  the  frost-chain  and  the  fever 

I  shall  be  soon ; 

Beyond  the  rock-waste  and  the  river. 
Beyond  the  ever  and  the  never, 

I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home ! 
Sweet  home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come. 


11, 
\m     ra  m 


I.    TILL  THE  RESURRECTION. 


Ijmial  attfr 


OEOEGE     CKOLT. 


ARTH  to  earth,  and  dust  to  dust ! 

Here  the  evil  and  the  just, 
Here  the  youthful  and  the  old, 

Here  the  fearful  and  the  bold, 
Here  the  matron  and  the  maid, 

In  one  silent  bed  are  laid ; 
Here  the  vassal  and  the  king 

Side  by  side  lie  withering ; 
Here  the  sword  and  sceptre  rust : 
"  Earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust ! " 

Age  on  age  shall  roll  along 
O'er  this  pale  and  mighty  throng ; 
Those  that  wept  them,  those  that  weep, 
All  shall  with  these  sleepers  sleep ; 

355 


356  IIYXXS    OX   HEAVEN. 

Brothers,  sisters  of  the  worm, 
Summer's  sun,  or  winter's  storm 
Song  of  peace,  or  battle's  roar, 
Ne'er  shall  break  their  slumbers  more ; 
Death  shall  keep  his  silent  trust : 
"  Earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust !  " 

But  a  day  is  coming  fast, 
Earth,  thy  mightiest  and  thy  last ; 
It  shall  come  i&  fear  and  wonder, 
Heralded  by  trump  and  thunder ; 
It  shall  come  in  strife  and  toil ; 
It  shall  come  in  blood  and  spoil ; 
It  shall  come  in  empires'  groans, 
Burning  temples,  trampled  thrones ; 
Then,  ambition,  rule  thy  lust : 
"  Earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust !  " 

Then  shall  come  the  judgment  sign ; 
In  the  east  the  King  shall  shine, 
Flashing  from  Heaven's  golden  gate, 
Thousands,  thousands  round  his  state, 
Spirits  with  the  crown  and  plume. 
Tremble,  then,  thou  sullen  tomb ; 
Heaven  shall  open  on  our  sight, 
Earth  be  turned  to  living  light, 
Kingdoms  of  the  ransomed  just : 
"  Earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust ! " 


HOW  LONG   IN   HEAVEN?  357 

Then  thy  mount,  Jerusalem, 
Shall  be  gorgeous  as  a  gem ; 
Then  shall  in  the  desert  rise 
Fruits  of  more  than  Paradise ; 
Earth  by  angel  feet  be  trod, 
One  great  garden  of  her  God, 
Till  are  dried  the  martyrs'  tears, 
Through  a  thousand  glorious  years. 
Now  in  hope  of  Him  we  trust : 
"  Earth  to  earth  and  dust  to  dust !  " 


mttr 

FROM  TUB   GERMAN  OF  P.  F.  HILLER. 

THE  Shepherd,  by  his  passion, 
Made  peace  and  wrought  salvation  ; 
To  all  in  his  good  keeping 
Now  dying  is  but  sleeping. 

They  go,  not  souls  affrighted, 
To  judgment  sternly  cited ; 
They  go  from  hardships  dreary, 
To  rest  like  soldiers  weary. 

No  fears  the  heart  molesting, 
From  all  life's  trouble  resting, 
They  wait  the  glad  revival, 
And  sleep  till  its  arrival. 


358  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

They  lay  their  toil-worn  members 
In  death's  cool,  quiet  chambers, 
And,  free  from  care  and  cumber, 
Like  children  sink  to  slumber. 

Safe  in  God's  love  that  found  them, 
With  Christ's  strong  arm  around  them, 
And  sealed  by  Ms  good  Spirit, 
To  die,  why  need  they  fear  it  ? 

Thy  grace,  0  Lord,  doth  teach  me 
No  harm  through  death  can  reach  me 
So  let  mine  eyes,  when  closing, 
Be  on  thy  cross  reposing ; 

This  heart  to  thee  be  cleaving, 
To  its  last  beat  believing ; 
Then,  till  the  resurrection, 
Give,  my  poor  dust  protection. 

Glad,  then,  be  mine  awaking, 
My  lips  in  praises  breaking, 
My  body-  glad  with  brightness, 
Like  the  spring  lily's  whiteness ! 


HOW  LONG   IN  HEAVEN?  359 


in 

FBOM  THE  LATIN  OF  PEUDENTIUS. 

AH  !  hush  now  your  mournful  complainings, 
Nor,  mothers,  your  sweet  babes  deplore ; 

This  death  we  so  shrink  from  but  cometh 
The  ruin  of  life  to  restore. 

Who  now  would  the  sculptor's  rich  marble, 

Or  beautiful  sepulchres,  crave  ? 
We  lay  them  but  here  in  their  slumber ; 

This  earth  is  a  couch,  not  a  grave. 

For  quickly  the  day  is  approaching 

When  life  through  these  cold  limbs  shall  flow, 
And  the  dwelling,  restored  to  its  inmate, 

With  the  old  animation  shall  glow. 

The  body  which  lay  in  dishonor 

In  the  mouldering  tomb  to  decay, 
Rejoined  to  the  spirit  which  dwelt  there, 

Shall  soar  like  a  swift  bird  away. 

The  seed  which  we  sow  in  its  weakness 

In  the  spring  shall  rise  green  from  the  earth, 

And  the  dead  we  thus  mournfully  bury 

In  God's  spring-time  again  shall  shine  forth. 


360  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Yet  whilst,  0  our  God,  o'er  the  body 
Thou  watchest,  to  mould  it  again, 

What  region  of  rest  hast  thou  ordered 
Where  the  spirit  unclothed  may  remain  ? 

In  the  bosom  of  saints  is  her  dwelling, 
Where  the  fathers  and  Lazarus  are, 

Whom  the  rich  man,  athirst,  in  his  anguish 
Beholds  in  their  bliss  from  afar. 

We  follow  thy  words,  0  Redeemer, 

When,  trampling  on  Death  in  his  pride, 

Thou  sentest  to  tread  in  thy  footsteps 
The  thief  on  the  cross  at  thy  side. 

The  bright  way  of  Paradise  opened, 

For  every  believer  has  space, 
And  that  garden  again  we  may  enter 

Which  the  serpent  once  closed  to  our  race. 


FBOH    THE     GERMAN    OF    P.    B0SCH,    BT    H.    MILLS. 

I  HAIL  the  day,  in  prospect  bright, 
When  I  from  death  awaking, 

My  Saviour  God  shall  meet  my  sight, 
Forth  in  his  glory  breaking ; 


HOW  LONG    IN  HEAVEN?  361 

Then  to  the  skies  with  joy  I'll  rise, 
Their  crown  of  glory  wearing 
Who  love  their  Lord's  appearing. 

Thou,  Lord,  wilt  in  due  time  reveal 

That  day  of  consummation, 
When  all  thy  saints  from  every  ill 

Shall  have  complete  salvation ; 
Then  of  thy  love  shall  learn  above, 

Through  endless  life,  the  measure, 

Of  grace  thy  boundless  treasure. ' 

That  life  thou  wilt  to  me  impart ; 

Thou  art  my  hope  unceasing ; 
Thy  coming  shall  rejoice  my  heart, 

My  prisoned  dust  releasing ; 
Nor  need  I  fear  before  thy  bar 

The  scoffers  to  resemble, 

Who  shall  in  anguish  tremble  ; 

While  I,  in  wonder  and  delight, 

Shall  stand,  dear  Lord,  before  thee, 
With  ransomed  sinners  on  thy  right, 

And  then  in  heaven  adore  thee. 
With  hopes  so  high  thy  grace  supply, 

To  fit  me  for  thy  favor, 

And  for  thy  joys  forever  ! 

31 


362  HYMNS   ON  HEAVEN. 


OUR  Saviour  shall  descend  again, 
Earth's  buried  millions  raising ; 
With  him  shall  come  a  glorious  train, 
Adoring  him  and  praising. 

Rai§e  high  the  song  that  loud  and  long 

Before  him  ceaseth  never, 
Till,  casting  down  each  golden  crown, 
All  worship  him  forever. 

What  though  these  bodies  lie  in  dust 

Before  that  glad  appearing  ? 
Yet  shall  they  stand  among  the  just, 
Our  Saviour's  image  wearing. 

Raise  high  the  song  that  loud  and  long 

Before  him  ceaseth  never, 
Till,  easting  down  each  golden  crown, 
All  worship  him  forever. 

What  though  earth's  gathering  tempests  lower, 

And  ages  pass  in  sadness  ? 
Their  darkest  hour  shall  swell  the  power 
And  glory  of  that  gladness. 
Raise  high  the  song  that  loud  and  long 

Before  him  ceaseth  never, 
Till,  casting  down  each  golden  crown 
All  worship  him  forever. 


HOW  LONG  IN  HEAVEN*  3G3 

Then  safe  at  last  the  blessed  throng, 

Set  free  from  tribulation, 
Forever  praise,  in  holy  song, 
The  God  of  their  salvation. 

Kaise  high  the  song  that  loud  and  long 

Before  him  ceaseth  never, 
Till,  casting  down  each  golden  crown, 
All  worship  him  forever. 


<8femhi0 

TKT     VAUG 

BODY, 


HEXET     VAUO HAN. 


FAREWELL  !    I  goe  to  sleep ;  but  when 
The  day-star  springs,  I'll  wake  again. 

SOUL. 

Goe,  sleep  in  peace ;  and  when  thou  lyest 
Unnumbered  in  thy  dust,  when  all  this  frame 
Is  but  one  dramnie,  and  what  thou  now  descriest 

In  sev'rall  parts  shall  want  a  name, 
Then  may  His  peace  be  with  thee,  and  each  dust 
Writ  in  His  book,  who  ne'er  betrayed  man's  trust ! 

BODY. 

Amen !  but  hark,  ere  we  two  str^iy,  — 
How  many  hours,  dost  think,  'till  day  ? 


364  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

SOUL. 

Ah,  go ;  thou'rt  weak,  and  sleepie.     Heaven 
Is  a  plain  watch,  and  without  figures  winds 
All  ages  up ;  who  drew  this  circle,  even 

He  fills  it ;  dayes  and  hours  are  blinds. 
Yet  this  take  with  thee  :  the  last  gasp  of  time 
Is  thy  first  breath,  and  man's  eternal!  prime. 


JAMES  BEATTIE. 


YET  such  the  destiny  of  all  on  earth  ; 

So  nourishes  and  fades  majestic  man  ; 
Fair  is  the  bud  his  vernal  morn  brings  forth, 

And  fostering  gales  a  while  the  nursling  fan. 

Oh  smile,  ye  heavens  serene  ;  ye  mildews  wan, 
Ye  blighting  whirlwinds,  spare  his  balmy  prime, 

Nor  lessen  of  his  life  the  little  span. 
Borne  on  the  swift  though  silent  wings  of  time, 
Old  age  comes  on  apace  to  ravage  all  the  clime. 

And  be  it  so.     Let  those  deplore  their  doom 
"Whose  hope  still  grovels  in  this  dark  sojourn; 

But  lofty  souls,  who  look  beyond  the  tomb, 

Can  srniie  at  fate,  and  wonder  how  they  mourn. 
Shall  spring  to  these  sad  scenes  no  more  return  ? 


HOW  LONG   IN  HEAVEN?  365 

Is  yonder  wave  the  sun's  eternal  bed  ? 

Soon  shall  the  orient  with  new  lustre  burn, 
And  spring  shall  soon  her  vital  influence  shed, 
Again  attune  the  grove,  again  adorn  the  mead. 

Shall  I  be  left  abandoned  in  the  dust, 

When  fate,  relenting,  lets  the  flower  revive  ? 
Shall  nature's  voice,  to  man  alone  unjust, 

Bid  him,  though  doomed  to  perish,  hope  to  live  ? 

Is  it  for  this  fair  virtue  oft  must  strive 
With  disappointment,  penury,  and  pain  ? 

No ;  heaven's  immortal  spring  shall  yet  arrive, 
And  man's  majestic  beauty  bloom  again, 
Bright  through  the  eternal  year  of  love's  triumphant 
reign. 


H.    BONAR. 


THE  star  is  not  extinguished  when  it  sets 
Upon  the  dull  horizon  ;  but  it  goes 

To  shine  in  other  skies,  then  reappear 
In  ours,  as  fresh  as  when  it  first  arose. 

The  river  is  not  lost  when  o'er  the  rock 
It  pours  its  flood  into  the  abyss  below ; 

Its  scattering  force  regathering  from  the  shock, 
It  hastens  onward  with  yet  fuller  flow. 

31* 


366  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

The  bright  sun  dies  not  when  the  shadowing  orb 
Of  the  eclipsing  moon  obscures  its  ray ; 

It  still  is  shining  on,  and  soon  to  us 

"Will  burst  undimmed  into  the  joy  of  day. 

The  lily  dies  not  when  both  flower  and  leaf 

Fade,  and  are  strewed  upon  the  chill,  sad  ground ; 

Gone  for  shelter  to  its  mother  earth, 

'Twill  rise,  re-bloom,  and  shed  its  fragrance  round. 

The  dew-drop  dies  not  when  it  leaves  the  flower, 
And  passes  upward  on  the  beam  of  morn  ; 

It  does  but  hide  itself  in  light  011  high, 
To  its  loved  flower  at  twilight  to  return. 

The  fine  gold  has  not  perished  when  the  flame 
Seizes  upon  it  with  consuming  glow ; 

In  freshened  splendor  it  comes  forth  anew, 
To  sparkle  011  the  monarch's  throne  or  brow. 

Thus  nothing  dies,  or  only  dies  to  live,  — 

Star,  stream,  sun,  flower,  the  dew-drop,  and  the  gold ; 

Each  goodly  thing,  instinct  with  buoyant  hope, 
Hastes  to  put  on  its  purer,  liner  mould. 

So,  in  the  quiet  joy  of  kindly  trust, 

We  bid  each  parting  saint  a  brief  farewell ; 

Weeping,  yet  smiling,  we  commit  their  dust 
To  the  safe  keeping  of  the  silent  cell. 


HOW  LONG   IN  HEAVEN?  367 

Softly  within  that  peaceful  resting-place 

We  place  their  wearied  limbs,  and  bid  the  clay 

Press  lightly  on  them,  till  the  night  be  past, 
And  the  far  east  give  note  of  coming  day. 

The  day  of  reappearing,  how  it  speeds  ! 

He  who  is  true  and  faithful  speaks  the  word ;  • 
Then  shall  we  ever  be  with  those  we  love ; 

Then  shall  we  be  forever  with  the  Lord. 

The  shout  is  heard ;  the  archangel's  voice  goes  forth  ; 

The  trumpet  sounds  ;  the  dead  awake  and  sing ; 
The  living  put  on  glory ;  one  glad  band, 

They  hasten  up  to  meet  their  coming  King ! 

Short  death  and  darkness,  endless  life  and  light ! 

Short  dimming,  endless  shining  in  yon  sphere, 
Where  all  is  incorruptible  and  pure, 

The  joy  without  the  pain,  the  smile  without  the 
tear. 


FROM  THE  GERMAN  OF  C.  C.  STURM. 

HARK  !  the  trump  of  God  is  sounding, 
The  archangel's  shout  the  call  resounding, 

Arise,  ye  saints,  and  leave  the  tomb ; 
Children  of  your  heavenly  Father, 


368  HYMNS    OX   HEAVEN. 

To  him  from  your  dispersions  gather ; 
The  Lord  of  glory  calls  you  home ; 
Behold  the  morning  break ; 
Death's  night  is  gone ;  awake ! 

Hallelujah ! 
Now  is  prepared 
Your  full  reward ; 
That  day,  the  last  great  day,  is  here ! 

Earth,  and  sea,  and  hell,  are  quaking ; 
Now  the  redeemed  to  life  are  waking ; 

To  new  and  perfect  life  they  rise ; 
Jesus  comes  in  glory's  brightness, 
Before  him  mercy,  truth,  uprightness,  — 
How  fair  their  crown !  how  rich  the  prize ! 
They  live  with  God's  dear  Son, 
Their  light  his  shining  throne ; 

Shout  hosannas ; 
Redeemer,  thou 
Dost  give  us  now 
Sure  mansions  of  eternal  peace. 

Praise  shall  be  our  glad  employment 
Through  endless  day  of  pure  enjoyment ; 

What  stores  in  thee  of  grace  unknown ! 
Joys  are  now  all  hope  excelling ; 
New  wonders  still  thou  art  revealing, 

Our  Friend,  and  God's  beloved  Son, 


110  W  LONG   IN  HEAVEN*  369 

Never  to  eye  appeared, 

Such  things  were  never  heard,  — 

Thine  the  glory ; 
Eternally, 
0  Lord,  to  thee 
New  songs  and  honors  be  addressed ! 


I-EOM    THE    QERMAN    OF    PHILIP    JTICOLAJ. 

AWAKE,  awake,  for  night  is  flying, 

The  watchmen  on  the  heights  are  crying ; 

Awake,  Jerusalem,  at  last ! 
Midnight  hears  the  welcome  voices, 
And  at  the  thrilling  cry  rejoices : 

Come  forth,  ye  virgins,  night  is  past ; 
The  Bridegroom  comes ;  awake ; 
Your  lamps  with  gladness  take ; 

Hallelujah ! 

And  for  his  marriage-feast  prepare, 
For  ye  must  go  to  meet  him  there. 

Zion  hears  the  watchmen  singing, 
And  all  her  heart  with  joy  is  springing ; 
She  wakes  ;  she  rises  from  her  gloom  ; 
For  her  Lord  comes  down  all-glorious, 
The  strong  in  grace,  in  truth  victorious  ; 


370  UYJfXS    ON   HEAVLX. 

Her  star  is  risen,  her  Light  is  come. 
Ah,  come,  thou  blessed  Lord, 
0  Jesus,  Son  of  God, 

Hallelujah ! 

We  follow  till  the  halls  we  see 
Where  thou  hast  bid  us  sup  with  thee. 

Now  let  all  the  heavens  adore  thee, 
And  men  and  angels  sing  before  thee, 

With  harp  and  cymbal's  clearest  tone ; 
Of  one  pearl  each  shining  portal, 
Where  we  are  with  the  choir  immortal 
Of  angels  round  thy  dazzling  throne ; 
Nor  eye  hath  seen,  nor  ear 
Hath  yet  attained  to  hear 

What  there  is  ours ; 
But  we  rejoice,  and  sing  to  thee 
Our  hymn  of  joy  eternally. 


H  .    B  O  X  A  E  , 


ASCEND,  beloved,  to  the  joy ; 

The  festal  day  has  come  ; 
To-night  the  Lamb  doth  feast  his  own, 
To-night  he  with  his  bride  sits  down, 
To-night  puts  on  the  spousal  crown, 

In  the  great  upper  room. 


HOW  LONG   IN   HEAVEN?  371 

Ascend,  beloved,  to  the  love ; 

This  is  the  day  of  days ; 
To-night  the  bridal  song  is  sung, 
To-night  ten  thousand  harps  are  strung, 
In.  sympathy  with  heart  and  tongue, 

Unto  the  Lamb's  high  praise. 

The  festal  lamps  are  lighting  now 

In  the  great  marriage-hall ; 
By  angel-hands  the  board  is  spread ; 
By  angel-hands  the  sacred  bread 
Is  on  the  golden  table  laid ; 

The  King  his  own  doth  call. 

The  gems  are  gleaming  from  the  roof, 
Like  stars  in  night's  round  dome  ; 

The  festal  wreaths  are  hanging  there, 

The  festal  fragrance  fills  the  air, 

And  flowers  of  heaven,  divinely  fair, 
Unfold  their  happy  bloom. 

Long,  long  deferred,  now  come  at  last, 

The  Lamb's  glad  wedding-day ; 
The  guests  are  gathering  to  the  feast, 
The  seats  in  heavenly  order  placed, 
The  royal  throne  above  the  rest ; 

How  bright  the  new  array ! 


37'2  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Sorrow  and  sighing  are  no  more ; 

The  weeping  hours  are  past ; 
To-night  the  waiting  will  be  done, 
To-night  the  wedding-robe  put  on, 
The  glory  and  the  joy  begun ; 

The  crown  has  come  at  last." 

Without,  within,  is  light,  is  light ; 

Around,  above,  is  love,  is  love  ; 
We  enter,  to  go  out  no  more ; 
We  raise  the  song  unsung  before ; 
We  doff  the  sackcloth  that  we  wore ; 

For  all  is  joy  above. 

Ascend,  beloved,  to  the  life ; 

Our  days  of  death  are  o'er ; 
Mortality  has  done  its  worst ; 
,The  fetters  of  the  tomb  are  burst ; 
The  last  has  now  become  the  first, 

Forever,  evermore. 

Ascend,  beloved,  to  the  feast ; 

Make  haste,  thy  day  is  come ; 
Thrice  blest  are  they  the  Lamb  doth  call 
To  share  the  heavenly  festival 
In  the  new  Salem' s  palace-hall, 

Our  everlasting  hoine. 


II.    FOR  EVER  iHD  EYER. 


fife  Eternal. 

RIEF  life  is  here  our  portion, 

Brief  sorrow,  short-lived  care  ; 
The  life  that  knows  no  ending, 

The  tearless  life,  is  there. 
Reward  of  grace  how  wondrous  ! 

Short  toil,  eternal  rest ! 
Oh,  miracle  of  mercy, 

That  rebels  should  be  blest ! 


That  we,  with  sin  polluted, 

Should  have  our  home  so  high ! 
That  we  should  dwell  in  mansions 

Beyond  the  starry  sky  ! 
And  now  we  fight  the  battle, 

And  then  we  wear  the  crown 
Of  full  .and  everlasting 

And  ever-bright  renown. 

I  know  not,  oh !  I  know  not 
What  social  joys  are  there ; 

What  pure,  unfading  glory ; 
What  light  beyond  compare ; 

32  373 


374  'HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

And  when  I  fain  would  sing  them, 
My  spirit  fails  and  faints, 

And  vainly  strives  to  image 
The  assembly  of  the  saints. 

There  is  the  throne  of  David, 

And  there,  from  toil  released, 
The  shout  of  them  that  triumph, 

The  song  of  them  that  feast ; 
0  garden  free  from  sorrow ! 

0  plains  that  fear  no  strife  ! 
0  princely  bowers  all-blooming ! 

0  realm  and  home  of  life  ! 


Jf0r  (Bbmrwu. 

DUBLIN     UNIVERSITY     MAGAZINE. 

Two  worlds  there  are.     To  one  our  eyes  we  strain, 

Whose  magic  joys  we  shall  not  see  again ; 

Bright  haze, of  morning  veils  its  glimmering  shore ; 

Ah !  truly  breathed  we  there 

Intoxicating  air ; 
Glad  were  our  hearts  in  that  sweet  realm  of  nevermore. 


HOW  LONG   IN  HEAVEN?  375 

The  lover  there  drank  her  delicious  breath 
Whose  love  has  yielded  since  to  change  or  death ; 
The  mother  kissed  her  child  whose  days  are  o'er. 

Alas  !  too  soon  have  fled 

The  irreclaimable  dead ; 
We  see  them  —  visions  strange  —  amid  the  nevermore. 

The  merry  song  some  maidens  used  to  sing,  * 
The  brown,  Grown  hair,  that  once  was  wont  to  cling 
To  temples  long  clay  cold  —  to  the  very  core 
They  strike  our  weary  hearts, 
As  some  vexed  memory  starts 
From  that  long-faded  land,  the  realm  of  nevermore. 

It  is  perpetual  summer  there.     But  here 

Sadly  we  remember  rivers  clear, 

And  harebells  quivering  on  the  meadow  floor ; 

For  brighter  bells  and  bluer, 

For  tender  hearts  and  truer, 
People  that  happy  land,  the  realm  of  nevermore. 

Upon  the  frontier  of  this  shadowy  land 
We,  pilgrims  of  eternal  sorrow,  stand  ; 
What  realm  lies  forward,  with  its  happier  store 

Of  forests  green  and  deep, 

Of  valleys  hushed  in  sleep, 
And  lakes  most  peaceful  ?  'Tis  the  land  of  evermore. 


376  HYMNS    ON  HEAVEN. 

Very  far  off  its  marble  cities  seem ; 
Very  far  off,  beyond  our  sensual  dream, 
Its  woods  unruffled  by  the  wild  wind's  roar ; 

Yet  does  the  turbulent  surge 

Howl  on  its  very  verge ; 
One  moment,  and  we  breathe  within  the  evermore. 


They  whom  we  loved  and  lost  so  long  ago 
Dwell  in  those  cities,  far  from  mortal  woe, 
Haunt  those  fresh  woodlands,  whence  sweet  carollings 
soar. 

Eternal  peace  have  they ; 

God  wipes  their  tears  away ; 
They  drink  that  river  of  life  which  flows  for  evermore. 

Thither  we  hasten  through  these  regions  dim : 
But,  lo !  the  wide  wings  of  the  seraphim 
Shine  in  the  sunset !  on  that  joyous  shore 

Our  lightened  hearts  shall  know 

The  life  of  long  ago ; 
The  sorrow-burdened  past  shall  fade  for  evermore. 


HOV/  LONG  IN  HEAVEN*  377 


"  SOON  and  forever  !  " 

Such  promise  our  trust, 
Though  ashes  to  ashes, 

And  dust  unto  dust,  — 
Soon  and  forever 

Our  union  shall  be 
Made  perfect,  our  glorious 

Redeemer,  in  thee. 
When  the  sins  and  the  sorrows 

Of  time  shall  be  o'er, 
Its  pangs  and  its  partings 

Remembered  no  more, 
When  life  cannot  fail, 

And  when  death  cannot  sever 
Christians  with  Christ  shall  be 

Soon  and  forever. 

Soon  and  forever 

The  breaking  of  day 
Shall  drive  all  the  night-clouds 

Of  sorrow  away. 
Soon  and  forever 

We'll  see  as  we're  seen, 
And  learn  the  deep  meaning 

Of  things  that  have  been  ; 

32* 


378  HYMNS   ON   HEAVEN. 

When  fightings  without  us, 

And  fears  from  within, 
Shall  weary  no  more 

In  the  warfare  of  sin ; 
Where  tears,  and  where  fears, 

And  where  death  shall  be  never, 
Christians  with  Christ  shall  be 

Soon  and  forever. 


Soon  and  forever 

The  work  shall  be  done, 
The  warfare  accomplished, 

The  victory  won ; 
Soon  and  forever 

The  soldier  lay  down 
His  sword  for  a  harp, 

And  his  cross  for  a  crown. 
Then  droop  not  in  sorrow, 

Despond  not  in  fear ; 
A  glorious  to-morrow 

Is  brightening  and  near, 
When,  blessed  reward 

Of  each  faithful  endeavor, 
Christians  with  Christ  shall  be 

Soon  and  forever. 


HOW  LONG  IN  IIEAVEN1  379 


forty  %  f  0rir. 


J.  MONTGOMERY. 

"  FOREVER  with  the  Lord  !  " 

Ameri  ;  so  let  it  be  ; 
Life  from  the  dead  is  in  that  word, 

'Tis  immortality. 

Here  in  the  body  pent, 
Absent  from  him  I  roam, 

Yet  nightly  pitch  my  moving  tent 
A  day's  march  nearer  home. 

My  Father's  house  on  high, 
Home  of  my  soul,  how  near, 

At  times,  to  faith's  foreseeing  eye 
Thy  golden  gates  appear  ! 

Ah  !  then  my  spirit  faints 
To  reach  the  land  I  love, 

The  bright  inheritance  of  saints, 
Jerusalem  above. 

Yet  clouds  will  intervene, 
And  all  my  prospect  flies  ; 

Like  Noah's  dove,  I  flit  between 
Rough  seas  and  stormy  skies. 


380  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

Anon  the  clouds  depart, 

The  winds  and  waters  cease, 

While  sweetly  o'er  my  gladdened  heart 
Expands  the  bow  of  peace. 

Beneath  its  glowing  arch, 
Along  the  hallowed  ground, 

I  see  cherubic  armies  march, 
A  camp  of  fire  around. 

I  hear  at  morn  and  even, 
At  noon  and  midnight  hour, 

The  choral  harmonies  of  heaven 
Earth's  Babel-tongues  o'erpower. 

Then,  then  I  feel  that  He 
(Remembered  or  forgot), 

The  Lord,  is  never  far  from  me, 
Though  I  perceive  him  not. 

In  darkness  as  in  light, 
Hidden  alike  from  view, 

I  sleep,  I  wake,  as  in  His  sight 
Who  looks  all  nature  through. 

All  that  I  am,  have  been, 

All  that  I  yet  may  be, 
He  sees  at  once,  as  he  hath  seen, 

And  shall  forever  see. 


HOW  LONG   IN  HEAVEN*  381 

How  can  I  meet  his  eyes  ? 

Mine  on  the  cross  I  cast, 
And  own  my  life  a  Saviour's  prize, 

Mercy  from  first  to  last. 

"  Forever  with  the  Lord  ! " 

Father,  if  'tis  thy  will, 
The  promise  of  that  faithful  word 

Even  here  to  me  fulfil ! 

Be  thou  at  my  right  hand, 

Then  can  I  never  fail ; 
Uphold  thou  me,  and  I  shall  stand ; 

Fight,  and  I  must  prevail : 

So  when  my  latest  breath 

Shall  rend  the  veil  in  twain, 
By  death  I  shall  escape  from  death, 

And  life  eternal  gain. 

Knowing  as  I  am  known, 

How  shall  I  love  that  word, 
And  oft  repeat  before  the  throne, 

"  Forever  with  the  Lord  1 " 

Then,  though  the  soul  enjoy 

Communion  high  and  sweet, 
While  worms  this  body  must  destroy, 

Both  shall  in  glory  meet. 


382  HYMNS    ON   HEAVEN. 

The  trump  of  final  doom 

Will  speak  the  self-same  word, 

And  heaven's  voice  thunder  through  the  tomb, 
"  Forever  with  the  Lord  ! " 

The  tomb  shall  echo  deep 

That  death-awakening  sound ; 

The  saints  shall  hear  it  in  their  sleep, 
And  answer  from  the  ground. 

Then  upward  as  they  fly, 

That  resurrection-word 
Shall  be  their  shout  of  victory, 

"  Forever  with  the  Lord !  " 

That  resurrection-word, 

That  shout  of  victory, 
Once  more,  "  Forever  with  the  Lord !  " 

Amen ;  so  let  it  be. 


THE    END. 


mttr 

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Sprague's  European  Celebrities.     Marsh's  Camel  and  the  Hallig. 

Boget's  Thesaurus  of  English  Words. 

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